𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝟏𝟐𝟕

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

Winter break has begun. The streets are quiet now, blanketed in frost that crunches underfoot. Christmas lights hang from rooftops, but they feel more like decorations for someone else's celebration.

I've been home for a week. The first semester of college is behind me, and I'm supposed to feel accomplished, maybe even relieved. Instead, I feel untethered. The days stretch long and aimless, the routine of classes replaced by hours of staring at the same four walls of my childhood bedroom.

Sellean University was supposed to be my new beginning—a chance to start fresh, far from the weight of my past. And in some ways, it was. It has been. I learned things about myself, built connections, lost others, and survived some of the hardest moments I've faced yet. But nothing about it was easy.

For me, it never is.

I've lived with major depressive disorder for years. Social anxiety and general anxiety make simple things—like going to new places or walking into a room full of people—feel like climbing mountains in the dark. These aren't just quirks or bad days; they're heavy, shapeless things that settle over my shoulders, making even the brightest moments feel muted.

College didn't change that. If anything, it made me confront it more. I fell out of sync with friends, struggled to connect with new ones, and spent too much time chasing things—people, approval, happiness—that never felt quite real. I thought I'd leave high school behind, but parts of it followed me anyway.

And yet, here I am. I made it through the first semester.

Now, I have time to look back on it all—the good, the bad, the lonely—and figure out what it means. Maybe this break is what I need to make sense of the mess I've been living through. Or maybe it's just another pause before the chaos picks back up again.

All I know is that I'm not the same person who packed a suitcase and said goodbye to this house four months ago. And maybe that's enough. For now.