It’s Okay To Hate Freshman Year
By Catie Cornell
As I packed my bag to head to my routinely Tuesday morning Introduction to Geography class, I tried not to cry. Nothing had happened to me. There was no death in my family, nobody was sick. I had not recently gone through a break-up, and I did not recently experience anything traumatic. Yet I could not keep my eyes from welling with tears.
I was 18. It was my freshman year of college. My first year away from home. My first year being in an entirely new environment. My first year being surrounded by people with whom I had not grown up with. Yet I did not care. I was so excited about all of these factors I never once stopped to think how it could affect me. In addition to that, I was constantly surrounded by people throwing the freshman year narrative at me, that I never paused to ask if it was true.
The freshman year narrative is common. It’s the idea that is spread that freshman year is the best year of your life. Whether it be in the form of social media, or by consistent word of mouth, there is no doubt that college students are fed the story that there is no time better than the times spent during your first year at your university.
First semester, I ate that narrative up. I was going out four times a week. I had met people from all over the country with different backgrounds than myself. I became instant best friends with my roommate, and as we filled our shared space with decorations, we also grew to know each other on a level I had never anticipated. I was acing all my classes while putting in minimum effort, and celebrating by drinking in amounts that I couldn’t have dreamt of in high school. I wasn’t just witnessing the freshman year narrative; I was living it.
I also was not the only one. In a national survey conducted by College Drinking Prevention, a government organization, around 60% of college students reported drinking in the past month, with 2 out of 3 of them classifying it as binge drinking. A problem no one talks about until it is too late.
My too late came in January of freshman year. As I made the journey from my hometown in Maryland back to the University of Georgia campus, I had a feeling in my stomach that I had not only never felt before, but had also never heard of. I attributed it to excitement, as after all, I had not seen my new college friends in a month. I was able to convince myself I was just awaiting the sweet reunion we were about to have.
If a sweet reunion entails calling your mom from the basement of a fraternity house hysterically sobbing asking her to pick you up- then boy was that reunion sweet. That night of my arrival back to Athens I had what most people would call a breakdown. My mom frantically tried to postpone her flight back to Maryland as I sobbed into the sheets of her hotel bed. I don’t remember much, but I do remember her asking me over and over, “what happened?” and my inability to spit out any noise other than gasps for air between my tears.
For the next six to eight weeks, my life was a living hell. Before my mom left, she attended a few therapy sessions with me, and then set a schedule for my new therapist and myself. However, the therapy alone did not feel like enough. I was unable to get out of bed without crying, I had completely isolated myself from every and all social situations, and scrolling through social media became a form of self-sabotage I was consistently partaking in. As my Instagram feed was constantly filled with fellow freshmen, the prevalence of the freshmen narrative increased. Each time I saw someone post about the great time they were having, which was at least three to four times a day, I immediately broke down. How come I was not having fun? What had I done wrong?
After a few weeks of unsuccessful therapy, I began medication. Things started looking up. With continued therapy paired with the medication, I was able to become stable. Branching back out was difficult, and I even applied to transfer schools. I felt like I couldn’t explain myself to my original friends because I was the only one experiencing mental health issues, and I was embarrassed. The thought of being open and honest with these people who I had only known for a few months, and had spent most of our time together drinking, seemed impossible. Had I known then what I know now, it probably would’ve been much easier.
In reality, over one third of college students reported being so depressed they were unable to function in a study conducted by the American College Health Association. In addition, over sixty percent of students reported a sense of, “overwhelming anxiety.”
One of my biggest downfalls during my freshman year was the sense of loneliness I felt. Everywhere I turned it appeared that everyone else was having the time of their lives while I was miserable in bed. Had a few of my peers, up to half as the statistics suggest, told me they were feeling even remotely the same way, I genuinely believe life would’ve been much easier.
As Mayo Clinic discusses in their research on college depression, college students are actually some of the most susceptible people to depression. It’s most students first time away from home. For the first time in their lives, 18 year olds have no limits on their sleep schedules, dietary habits, or activities such as video games or social media consumption. Tying that with Affordable Colleges Online’s research on the top twenty mistakes college freshmen can make, of which one of them was using social media in unhealthy amounts, it is apparent that college freshmen are extremely vulnerable to mental health issues.
As the Association of American Colleges and Universities suggests, freshman year of college is much more than “Grade 13.” The article writes, “For new students, college presents a foreign set of norms, traditions, and rituals, and a new language and environment. The high school and the college educational cultures are quite different. It is no surprise that student transition is difficult as well. Making the transition from being a high school student to being a successful college student does not happen instantaneously, and it certainly does not occur by simple osmosis.”
Looking back on it, I cannot help but wonder, had I known it was supposed to be hard, would it have been as hard as it actually became? That is an answer I will never know. What I do know however, is that it is important to talk about our downfalls. As a society, even more so as human beings, we tend to have difficulties acknowledging our struggles and asking for help. The introduction of social media has only made this phenomenon worse- as people typically only post their highlight reels, as opposed to their never-before-seen’s.
The freshmen narrative is dangerous. It teaches society’s most vulnerable that they’d better be having fun. It fails to acknowledge the struggles and challenges they are likely to face at some point. As a result, it fails our young and hopeful students.
So if you’re a struggling freshman, a high school senior, or an older student looking back on your first year, I ask you to talk about it all. The good and the bad. Even if it was the best year of your life. If it wasn’t though, that’s okay too, just ask me.
