It’s that season again…every time I open Facebook or check Instagram, there seems to be another “back to school” post or photo. I see pictures of people I’ve known since they were toddlers announcing the college they’re going to, showing the world dorm pics, and getting excited for new beginnings. I look longingly at orientation albums for new RA’s or other college leaders, imagining what it would be like if I were healthy enough to be part of the fun.
I’m starting my Senior year of college in just a few weeks. That itself is an accomplishment because of the crazy amount of school I’ve missed through the years. But when I see posts from fellow Seniors, especially the people I grew up with, a feeling of sadness pours over me. You see, while they are flaunting their upcoming internships, counting down to graduation, and becoming stars on their sports teams, I am sitting in my living room with barely anything to show of the past few years of my life.
When I started college, I had big dreams. I wanted to be an RA, become involved in different clubs and groups, and spend time working and volunteering at hospitals and other places. I hoped to find lots of friends, crossed my fingers that a special boyfriend would come into the picture, and imagined happy days spent in the company of others. I made goals to achieve high grades and study diligently. I thought college would finally be my respite from my hectic high school experience. But on the night of September 3, 2012, all those dreams sank to the bottom of the pond, along with my ability to walk on my own.
There are some days when I just can’t help but feel left behind in all the college/life experiences. I mean, here I am, entering my Senior year and living at home. Jobless. Boyfriendless. Not at all living out what I had imagined. I mean, I don’t want to throw some huge pity party, because trust me, I know things could be a lot worse. But I do think that it’s okay to allow myself to experience these feelings of loss and loneliness.
My resume might not include all sorts of crazy jobs, internships, and opportunities like my fellow Seniors. My hand may still be empty and ring-less, with crutches tagging along instead of a man. My cell phone may only feature texts from my mom and from the local grocery store advertising the latest sales. My heart and mind may contain more scars than memories. But somewhere deeper than grades and classes and careers lies a different sort of adventure.
I carry with me my own story. My crazy roller coaster of a life, complete with treatment centers, hospitals, and operating rooms. My tear-shedding journey to get to the point where I am now. So even though I’m nowhere near the point that I thought I’d be right now, I’m still here. I’m still breathing. I’ve made it this far, so I have confidence that I can keep going, reminding myself that the only person I need to be better than is the person I was yesterday. Who cares if I’m not as brilliant or as experienced as those around me? They probably didn’t have to leave school every other year, move to different states for treatment, or spend more time in physical therapy than with friends.
We each have our own story to tell and adventure to go on. So even though I may feel left behind at times, I have to remind myself that life’s not a race…it’s a journey.
College on Crutches 