Nostalgia (12.6.2005)

 

            For me, at least, leaving for college has been a process similar to grieving.  Sometimes I’m not even sure what I’m grieving over or what exactly I’m nostalgic for.  I couldn’t wait to get out of high school.  I loved my friends, but I was sick of the drama and the familiarity.  Now, I feel like I am “‘… waiting for something to fulfill the longing [I] feel.  But [I] don’t know what.  Just something’” (873).  I recognize that the nostalgia I feel is “…largely dependent on repetition and routine.  You don’t feel nostalgic for something that happen in isolation; you merely retain a fond memory of it.  But things like the sum of what happened in your childhood…or even the routines of high school life, allow nostalgia to develop” (872).  As I think back on the semester, I realize that the feelings and emotions I have experienced resemble the stages of grief that Christine Krogue discusses.  My college experience began with bargaining.  In May, I realized that I needed to be at UT the next fall.  I had always wanted to go out of state, but it just seemed right.  While I knew it was a good decision, I was also unsure.  All of my friends were either going to school with each other or going somewhere far away; I was one of a few going to UT.  I tried bargaining with myself and my mind by attempting to convince myself that I should go somewhere else “to prevent loss” (895).  August, however, eventually came, and I found myself moving into my dorm, alone and scared.  Yes, UT is only five minutes from the house where I grew up, but I wanted to get away, and I wasn’t sure of how college would be for me.  Most of my friends had left a week before, leaving me in a denial of “not accepting the loss and refusing to acknowledge it” (895).  I didn’t want to believe that they were somewhere, experiencing something new together while I was here by myself.  Instead, I believed that things would go on as they had gone on for four years.  Eventually, I realized that this wasn’t the case, bringing on a bit of anger.  I didn’t think it was far that they were all together and I was here, and I hated that they had developed a new life together that I was left out of completely.  I hated realizing that “time brings continuity and change, and amidst all of it, nostalgia has become a way of resisting its passage and the change that it brings” (877).  This realization fist proved depression, sadness, and reflection, but eventually I came to accept the fate that my college decision had brought me.  I realized that I, too, was making incredible friends and having wonderful friends that they would never experience.  Yes, they were all still living together and experiencing everyday together.  I would never understand what they were going through in Mississippi, but they would never really understand the torture of Plan II or the thrill of UT football or any of the other amazing things I am able to participate in.