College Is Slowly Driving Me Insane

By

I moved from one part of the country to another for college. I thought college would change me for good. But under the books and the people, my anxiety took a turn for the worse. I have had anxiety issues since I was a kid. New places made me nervous and anxious. But I never knew that my anxiety would take a turn for the worse and I would develop OCD. And MAYBE I like it.
This place destroyed me. This place is destroying me. There is a silver lining though; I’ve never felt more alive. The fear hits me hard every second, every day. It keeps me awake. I live every moment as it destroys me. I live every moment and let it destroy me. I don’t deserve this. Or do I?

Let me confess my sins to you:

I throw seeds like they are puffs of cigarettes.

I don’t like people and they like me back. I ‘fake it off’ daily.

I gossip. I steal secrets from other people.

I use people. I make them work for me. I manipulate them.

I don’t like my father.

Is it really tit for tat? The anxiety is like a rush of fear that I can feel in every inch of my body; before entering rooms, before talking to people, before living lies and before selling souls.

It destroyed my mind. It makes me do things I would never do. It hits me like a hammer but it never stops. It is destroying my mind. Its true what my mom says, it really IS in my mind.

This is my day every day since I came here:

I wake up with the voice of my mother. I ask her if everything is going to be okay. “Everything is going to be okay,” she replies back. I cut the call and sleep again.

I wake up and face the left side of the bed, I face the wall. I feel bad cannot penetrate the wall and cannot ruin my day for me. To the right of the bed is the bathroom. My mind makes me believe that the waste will stain my day and make me cry.

I shampoo every day. Every single day. I feel the need to be pure on a daily basis. I don’t want the impurity of the previous day to effect what will happen to me today. I chant names and light incense sticks so that the smoke and smell can carry my prayers to the gods and the universe. I make myself believe that my prayers need to be heard and only then can they be answered.

I dress up and put on my shoes. The right shoe first. It prevents arguments throughout the day, which is what I believe. I leave my house, right foot first. Then I get back inside and then right foot first again. I repeat the same procedure a minimum of four times as I wait for the elevator to take my down, down to hell.

I continue to chant although I forget in between, my mind wandering as to how the day is going to feel like. If I diverge from the constant, there may be chaos. I reach the building of my college and enter right foot first, chanting simultaneously. I need all the help I can get from above to survive down here. I enter and hell begins to fall apart. It isn’t hell anymore. It is reality.

There is a difference between hell and reality. Hell is constant with pain. Hell is where I burn and burn again. But reality is worse. I know hell is going to burn, but I wait to get burnt in reality. Reality is no hell. Reality is the road to hell. And like they say everywhere on those goddamn spiritual sites, it is not about the destination, it is about the journey.

This place destroyed me.

What about the place destroyed me? The answer is change. I came here and it was a change from the ordinary; new faces and new names, new places and new days. And the people! They are the worst. My face was new to them and they hated me for it. It was my fault that I did not belong to where they were from. They judge me on my past and they tell me to live in the present. They couldn’t understand when I cried for my past. They judge me on how I look. ‘Looks don’t matter’ is bullshit, I am judged on my looks constantly. I am not the best looking human. But hell has its demons, and I don’t belong here. The demons know it.

“Why are you walking like this? Why is your hair like this? Why do you keep a beard? Why are you so short? Why are you bald from behind? Why are your eyes so small? Why are your lips so big? Why are your hands so hairy? Why are your clothes not from there? Why are your teeth so straight?”

Their voices become the voices in my head. They become the monsters in my head.

It hurts every morning not to wake up with a normal beating heart. This is not me. I was never like this. Why is this happening to me? When will it all end? When will this hell get tired of me and send me back to where I belong? Do I really want it to end?

I feel a feeling that I am on the screen. I feel as fucked up as Carrie from Homeland or Hannah from Girls. It just makes me feel like a part of something bigger than me. My heroes have gone through it. I am a TV show. But when will my season finale come? Have I lost my mind?

No. My mind has been changed. My mind has been destroyed. I have been destroyed. This place has destroyed me. This place is destroying me. But I love being anything but ordinary.