first days
I remember a friend telling me that her first semester of college was marked by a palpable loss of her sense of self. An ego death of sorts, but not from psychedelics. When she described it, I became so worried for my own experience, so terrified of the forces as strong as the food of the gods which may have caused it—forces she couldn’t put her finger on, but of which she felt the whole palm, fingers, and thumbs as they squeezed out whoever she thought she may have been.
My other friend said of college that “We are alone here! Whatever warm closenesses or sunny familiarities we’ve grown accustomed to basking in at home have been stripped from us.”
These sentiments made sense I supposed, but the intensity of which I feel them now is making it hard to get out of my twin XL bed. In these last three days I have been reminded of the loneliness of being among only strangers, while discovering a new loneliness of being a stranger. When I didn’t know anyone my freshman year of high school, at least I could go home to my family. But here I am completely unknown by a single person for 2,000 miles. This must be what brings us to ego death. How could you possibly know who you are when there’s nobody around who’s seen enough to tell you?
Physically, in the space around me, I am not alone. I am so surrounded, in fact too surrounded, by other people. It’s impossible to find a moment to myself! The last two days have been nonstop, so many activities, so many introductions. College is like being socially attacked from all sides, and I find my natural defense to be answering the same questions over and over again to everyone: “I’m from southern california… Oh it’s like an hour from LA, by Disneyland… haha yeah I do go to the beach a lot… I’m majoring in English right now but I might change… Yeah here’s my username” I think my confusion of identity is that my explanations of myself to all these people do not feel sufficient. They are repetitive, and while not false, not fully painted without a much longer conversation. I am a first impression, that is all. I am whatever these people’s opinions of my outfit and body and tone of voice is. What is their impression? Who do they see? I hope that is not all that is here, but if that is all that is known of me in this city, then maybe that is what I am. Maybe I am just a shell.
It’s strange too, because it is not just me who is alone. At orientation it was bizarre and disheartening to see so many people desperately try to find someone to connect with, someone to be accepted by. I keep hearing, “what about you?” along with questions with answers that must be so innate, so obvious to each of these people. I was at the student resources fair during orientation, sitting by the water fountain with a girl I’d just met, seeing people in my class approach each other, ask each other where they’re from, and exchange instagrams. It made me feel so bummed to be part of this massive collection of people who are all so alone. But it’s also the nature of the beast, right? We have to experience all this to have friends here one day. It’s just like this for a while, and that’s sad for now. It is a necessary sadness, a loneliness that can only result in making a whole bunch of new friends who will one day help us recognize ourselves again.