I realized I had obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) in my junior year of high school. It wasn’t unmanageable; compared to other cases I have seen, mine was less extreme. I could go through my day normally since I had been following nearly the same routine throughout high school.
It was a simple schedule: wake up early, go to class, work on the newspaper, go home and repeat. Sure, it was extremely monotonous, but that is what my brain preferred. I knew exactly what to expect each day, and it kept me regulated.
But then I arrived at college three hours away from home.
I knew months before I came to Peoria that it was going to be a new and challenging adjustment period. I was mentally prepared for college as much as I possibly could have been. I also knew that it wouldn’t necessarily be just my OCD that would make the adjustment hard, but also the typical “moving into college away from home for the first time” experience that almost everyone goes through.
As expected, the first month was rough. With different classes every day, having to share my space with others, and just not knowing anyone made me constantly anxious. However, I still chalked it up to being “normal first month of college” emotions and tried so hard to ignore these feelings.
I waited patiently for my anxiety and obsessive thoughts about going back home to cease, but they never did. I watched as it seemed like every freshman around me started becoming comfortable and happy with their new lives, and it honestly made me more upset that there was something wrong with me.
Even though I didn’t like high school, why was I suddenly wishing I could go back to how things were six months ago? I have always been an independent person and was convinced that I would enjoy the college experience so much, but I just couldn’t grasp it.
Every day felt so unpredictable and my brain couldn’t handle it. I forced myself to stay on campus for four weeks and get completely out of my comfort zone so I could properly adjust without going home and restarting my progress, but it just made these anxious thoughts worse.
Then I finally broke. I told my parents how I was truly feeling and that I wanted to come home, that I couldn’t live up to the “college experience expectations.” I was nervous about the backlash of disappointment that I thought would follow, but it thankfully never did.
The synopsis of the conversation was that I needed to stop putting such high expectations on myself and experience college the way I wanted to. I thought since I wasn’t partying, going out and coming home late, I wasn’t getting the “college experience.”
But I was wrong. The cliché college experience is not a one-size-fits-all; it depends on the person and that person is not me.
I have come to terms with this for the most part, and have finally started to get used to this new lifestyle as much as I possibly can. I don’t feel guilty for staying in and watching Netflix or going home on random weekends now because it is what makes me feel the most regulated and comfortable.
I still have days when these anxious thoughts get to me, and I can’t say that I’ve finally adjusted to college because I haven’t; however, I have learned to manage myself in a way where I don’t need to live up to non-existent expectations. I don’t feel the need to break out of my comfort zone if I don’t want to.
Even though the routine I have had for the past four years is drastically different now, I have come to terms with that. I know these upcoming years will be full of constant changes, but I am ready to experience them in my own, comfortable way.
