Hey, beautiful people!
So, true to form (and true to my site’s title), I’ve moved residences… again. For those who have seen my social media as of last Friday, you already know this, but for those who aren’t aware, here’s a little update/reflection for ya:
In January of this year, I moved into my very own studio on-campus at California Lutheran University. It was an absolute dream: cute, quaint, and completely accessible for me. I finally felt like (after a fairly disastrous living situation up at UC Davis), I had my own space. Well, it was short-lived and after almost six months of soaking up total solitude and a genuine sense of independence, I had to move out of my dream living space.
But it wasn’t for the reasons a lot of people have suspected as of late. While yes, moving back home (only 15 minutes away) has been a LOT easier on me financially, the main reason I made the executive decision to move out had to do with my mental health. As y’all have seen (or will see) on my Snapchat, Instagram, and Facebook, I struggle with “The Trifecta”: social anxiety, depression, and a mild form of PTSD. All of these things, with the exception of the PTSD, have been small, lingering parts of my personality. However, they became more pronounced after the events that unfolded in the last two years.
At first, I thought that having my own space would elevate me to new heights, personally and academically. But alas, the opposite happened. Due to my now intense proclivity to situations and places where I can hide away and avoid extensive social interaction, moving into a single-person living space only made that aspect of my personality worse. Rather than choosing to mix with my peers and extend my friendship repretoire a little, I immediately retreated back to my room, turned on Netflix, made myself some food, and called it a day. A lot of people have told me the same thing over the last year:
I don’t get it, though. All you have to do is force yourself.”
Okay. True. I can respect that and I actually agree with it. Part of being a transfer student to a college (and an introvert, if we’re getting personal here), is the idea that, at a certain point in your journey to graduation, you feel ten steps behind everyone else because you couldn’t/didn’t partake in the “traditional freshman experience”. Despite all of the transfer events schools put on for new students, no one can force anyone to show up, and at that point, you gotta force yourself, which isn’t something I could do for quite sometime, being that I’ve developed quite the affinity for reclusive situations. So, after a lot of thinking and crunching of a lot of huge numbers, I decided to move back home. The initial decision broke me and I felt as though every opportunity for me to be on my own, was sabotaged by something.
Even though I still miss my little abode on campus, I am happy to report a vast improvement in my overall health. It’s because of this that I am less resistant to the idea of change and the idea of having to adapt to certain situations that may seem slightly inconvenient, especially if the outcome remains as positive as it has been so far.
Trust the power of change, y’all. Whether the outcome is positive or negative, trust me when I say that you will come out stronger on the other side. I did.
I’ll be back with another post on Friday.