It Will Be Ok

            On Tuesday I moved into my new apartment up at college and classes start on Monday. Until then, I have time to do whatever in this new apartment and while I really enjoy being back I felt out of place. More than feeling out of place, I felt unsettled. Naturally, part of this could be attributed to the fact that it was, and still is, a new apartment and I’m not used to it. However, as I was thinking about the past two times I moved into a new dorm, I seemed to remember feeling a bit more at home, especially last year. I tried to brush it off as nothing more than nerves from driving a different way than typical, traffic, and the fact that the apartment wasn’t the one I was expecting, because I had remembered a different one. Maybe it was that I had a misunderstanding with my roommate, which we resolved, or because of the work training that was the next day. Could it be that I still needed to get more stuff from my parents’ house, which required at least four hours of driving? Was it the tenseness I had in realizing, actually realizing, that I had to pay for food and couldn’t just rely on the dining commons? Was it the cost of the food and cleaning supplies, unexpected furniture, and broken AC?

            As if my brain wasn’t asking enough questions, it asked even more like these. I tried to pin down which one was making me nervous the most. Which one had me feeling dizzy and unable to catch my breath? When I am stressed, I often clench my jaw. So I tried opening and closing my mouth. I tried sitting up, laying down, rolling over, but that only succeeded in making me nauseas. Everything seemed excessive. I was too hot and too cold. The dark corners of the room seemed menacing and the partially lit window from the streetlights seemed glaring. The blankets felt strangling and the bed felt like it was in an endless expanse. After my boyfriend helped me calm down from the panic attack, and I got some sleep, I discerned that the underlying reason for each of those worries was that I had was due to my lack of routine. Although many people balk at the word ‘schedule’ or any of its synonyms, I have come to understand that I need a schedule of some sort. I don’t need a very concrete schedule, but I do need to have a general idea of how I will do things or else I feel anxious.

            This year there are a myriad of new things coming into my life at college: a new position, a new additional job, a new apartment, new classes, new responsibilities, new professors, new class time, new route to walk, needing to cook, having my car, driving to new places, and budgeting for food and utilities. Any one of those on their own wouldn’t stress me out, but combined they equal an immense strain on my neurotic anxiety-prone mind. As I write this, I am definitely calmer than I was Tuesday. The training and drive are over and I have the rest of my belongings in my apartment. I have a loose idea as to how I will pay for food, but mostly I’ve just had to accept that it will be ok even though I don’t know exactly how it will be ok.