Last year

Looking back on how horrible I felt during freshman year, I don't know how I survived. The anxiety still resurfaces sometimes as I stare at the pastel walls of the halls. I am reminded of the deteriorating mental state I had experienced. The swamp I stood, only half in reality. The confusion, harsh feelings of deep love hatred, I remember thinking that if I stayed still long enough I could sink into the ground and become nothing. I have thought that I really didn't have the strength to combat such feelings, that I should not have lived. Then I realized, I was correct. It's wasn't strength that got me through those desperate times, but fear of death.