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Dustin Jarrett: Healing for the haunted

Dustin Jarrett, IC Columnist

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Have you ever had memories that seem to haunt you? Memories that may have been good, but when recalled, they bore themselves down into your heart and begin to cause an ache.

The recollection of things that once made me happy now seem to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I think of people I knew, cared about, disliked or just talked to a few times and I think of how different life seemed back then.

I’m still under the influence of this personal issue. It has been haunting me for years and particularly the past three weeks. These memories keep resurfacing and they come in emotional waves of pain.

I guess this emotional pain can be described as mourning for a world that I’ll never see again. Yes, a part of this whole thing is that I miss my home. I miss my family and what few close friends I had. But the happiness I once had there just doesn’t seem as joyous as it had been. If anything, it seems to make me feel bitter and spiteful.

It’s as if the innocent fun I once had seemed to vanish and was replaced with a harsh dose of reality. I cannot look back on my life the same way. I don’t like feeling like this, but there’s little else I can do. Is there?

As much as I hate feeling this way, I feel that nothing can help it. The stress of college, family and my life in general is nearly tearing me apart. But as sure as it aches, I know there must be something I can do to help this emotional pain.

When it finally got too terrible for me, I broke down. I finally got my answer. I had been eating in a dining hall when my sadness overwhelmed me. I was fighting back tears, quivering in fear and shaking in resistance to the tears that were welling up inside. When I couldn’t hold it back anymore, I ran. I grabbed my book bag and I booked it to my dorm where I broke down onto my knees. I finally released all the hurt and pain in a flood of tears. In doing so, I sought comfort in someone very close to me.

After talking to that person who deeply cared for me, I could smile again. I could be happy. I knew that the only way to cope with my raging emotions were to face them head-on. I had been too blind within them to see the obviousness of that. In thinking about it, I learned what it was that had gotten to me.

“Emerging Adulthood” is what happened. It’s a period between the ages of 18-25 years old, in which the reality of adulthood overcomes the memory of adolescence. It’s when the brain realizes it is time to transition into new memories. This occurs around the transition from high school to college, the workforce or whatever else occurs afterward. As I said previously, it is as if I am “mourning” for the old memories and fearful of what new memories I may create.

Upon recognizing this, I realized what I should have seen from the beginning. I’m not as alone as I thought. Everyone goes through this stage at some point, especially during college. I might call it “Puberty: Round 2.” The only way to go through this stage and cope with it is to face it head-on. My longing for my home, family and friends mixed with my emotional disorders (major depression and severe bipolar) led to an extreme reaction to this new psychological development, thus leading to the emotional fear and pain that I felt on a large scale.

This happens to everyone, but not at the same time or in the same way. To some, it just occurs and they understand it and step up their game. To others, they breakdown and even drop out of school. When it happens to you, it may be difficult and terrifying. It’s a wave that you can either be drowned in or ride; it’s just up to you to find the surfboard. Even though I didn’t want to vent to anyone, even though I felt that my hurt would be dismissed as “hormones” or whatever, I did vent in my moment of weakness.

I broke down and ached inside. I then knew I had to tell someone. Don’t push yourself to that point. Don’t let it get to the point where you fall on your knees to search for that surfboard. Talk to friends, family, resident advisors (RAs), or counselors at the Counseling Center; they have a good program over there. As much as you may not want to, find someone to talk to who cares about you and your well-being. You’ll be grinning the next day if you do, trust me. Take care of yourselves and find happiness. Remember that there’s always someone who cares.

Dustin Jarrett is a first-year majoring in speech language pathology.

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