Complete failure

I try to be friendly. I try to stand up for myself. I try to stay out of her way. Vanessa won’t let me do any of it. I can’t study for fear of her barging in, I can’t relax. I’m crying in my room most days and if I’m not it’s because I’m crying in my car. Finally I give up on the room. I can’t go to the housing office, they won’t understand why I can’t just get along with my room mate. Not even worth looking into. So I just slowly move all my things into my car. I can’t charge my laptop from here, and I can only charge my phone occasionally since running the car just for that is way too wasteful. I’m still a dorm resident even if I don’t stay in the room, so I can still shower and use the bathroom. But that’s it, beyond that I now live in the parking lot.

My grades are suffering as I try and make things work. I can’t sleep well. I have to fight back tears every time I see Vanessa around campus. I can’t study late since I’m pretty reliant on natural light now. I can’t even fully relax in my car since people walking by occasionally look at me. Worse, I’ve had to talk to campus security several times. I don’t think they believe me anymore that I’m just checking my engine lights. I don’t even think that excuse makes sense. But either way doing it every night for a week has to be weird.

But it’s okay. I go to class. Cry in bathrooms. Go to next class and repeat until the day ends. Then make it back to my car, hide in the back seat, and cry some more. A simple game plan repeatable until I graduate. No flaws.

Okay, maybe one flaw. As much as I tried to keep it low key, someone must have noticed my minor problems and reported me to the school. I’m not sure who ratted me out but I was asked to go see a counselor so here I am.

“I’ll cut right to the chase. It’s only been 3 weeks and you are already falling behind. All of your assignments so far have been simple introductory ones more meant to help you understand the process of turning in work than anything else. That alone wouldn’t be enough to call you here though. We also have reports that you sleep in the parking lot every night, often fall asleep in class, and people have heard crying in a lot of bathrooms you’ve been in recently.”

I’m trying not to draw attention to myself! The frustration of it all gets to me, and I start crying then and there.

“It’s okay! No one’s mad at you. We just want to know what’s wrong. Maybe we can help.” No, no one can help. I’m not ready to be amongst normal people. I can’t even blame Vanessa, most people could have stood up to her at least somewhat. I keep crying until the counselor calls my parents. On the speaker phone I hear my mom call out. “Samantha dear, can you hear me?”

Oh god no. My parents aren’t supposed to find out how much I’m failing at life. I do my best to calm down, to try and make my voice sound normal. “I’m good. Bye.” No! Full sentences!

“Honey I can hear your voice trembling. It’s okay. We knew you would have trouble at college. There is plenty time. Why don’t you come home. We can try again. Next year.”

“Ma’am, respectfully I have to disagree. There is of course always next year, but it’s only three weeks in. It’s too soon to give up. Why don’t you tell me what’s been bothering you.”

Before I can even try and respond through my tears, mom interjects. “I can already tell you what’s bothering her, I’m her mother. She hasn’t been able to make any friends, and she’s away from home. She always was overly sensitive, so we knew college might be too much for her. Samantha, it’s okay. Just come home. We love you and will happily help you prepare for next year.”

I… I hate this. I hate crying in bathrooms. I hate being terrified of my own room. I hate being surrounded by people I can’t explain myself to. I… I want my mom. I want my dad. I want my room back home where I can be myself without someone judging me behind my back. I… I hate college. There are so many people, and all of them make me feel weird and useless. Especially my roommate.

“Okay. I want to come home.”

————————————————————————

The rest of the day was spent with counselor after counselor, school administrator after administrator. Every one of them trying desperately to make me change my mind. I wanted to cave to the pressure and say yes just to please them, but that just reinforced the whole reason why I needed to leave. I can’t handle the people around me. The weight of their expectations fuels my insecurities.

I go back to my room one last time, just to make sure I don’t forget anything. I collect all my clothes and school supplies, just in case I do try again next year. The sheer magnitude of my failure here makes me cringe at the thought of trying again. I find a few items that were left behind in my previous retreat in the desk, then scamper out before I risk seeing Vanessa again. I had such childish dreams of being best friends… I pass by her in the hallway as I’m leaving, and stare intently at the ground as we pass each other. I don’t know what she thinks of me, or if she even realizes I’m leaving because of her… no, I’m leaving because of me. My weakness. I’m so pathetic.

In return to my car and begin the long drive of shame back home. I should probably wait until tomorrow as it’s getting later in the day, but I need to get off this campus as soon as possible. Driving through the night is better than staying here another night. I love learning, the school structure, classes… I just can’t handle the people without a room to recover in, and I didn’t have that.

I have to stop on my overnight road trip several times to cry. I almost crash at least once when the sobs overtake me before I can make it to a full stop. An officer stops at my pulled over car to see what’s wrong… I don’t think she was expecting a sobbing girl blubbering about scary people in college. Luckily she let me go after I blew into her **** detector thing and it came up empty… proving I don’t need to be drunk to bawl my eyes out like a drunkard.

It’s past 2 in the morning when I finally reach the cliche white picket fence in suburbia that I grew up with. I don’t bother unpacking just yet, I just walk lifelessly to the front door. Before I can reach it my mom comes out and hugs me tightly. “Oh my baby. I’m so sorry this didn’t work out. But I’m happy you’re home. Quickly come inside, I’ve got your room setup just like you left it.”

My mom is taller than me, but shares my black hair. Hers is in a shoulder length bob. She is curvier than I am, though not the bustiest of ladies. Still, I might be more confident if I had her body… okay, probably not. My issues don’t come from body insecurities. She is wearing a pale green sundress, probably avoiding putting on her nightgown despite the late time because she was waiting for me.

I hug her back and start crying again, and we end up sitting in the living room for a bit before I finally calm down enough to make it to my room. Mom helps me undress calm down, she even tucks me in. I kind of wish dad had stayed up late too, but I understand that his job is pretty unforgiving, and if he’s not well rested they might actually fire him. I’ve only met dad’s boss once, but even my naive child self could tell he was the kind of person who thought if he paid you well enough that meant he owned you. And in fairness, my pretty idyllic childhood outside of my own mental issues proves he does pay well. He’s still a jerk, and I still want my dad, but I understand.

Mom leaves to get me a warm glass of milk, but the exhaustion and lateness of the day, the emotional toll, it all comes due and my mind can’t stay up any longer. Safe in my childhood bed, I drift to sleep and dream of a college life where Vanessa and I really did become friends…