I think about time a lot, specifically I think about how much time has passed between two points. I spend a lot of time reflecting on my life, part of the journey you take as someone with anxiety and depression eventually leads you to that point of reflection. When I measure time I tend to think of it as if a child had been born in that moment and how old they would now be. I attended college from 2004 to 2006, it being 2022 now that marks 18 years almost to the day.
I remember my first day of college with clarity for a number of reasons. We had recently moved house and our post was still being redirected. I knew I had been accepted to the college in question but I did not know the start date of my course, I was waiting for that to arrive. I remember my Mum waking me up one morning in September to tell me a letter arrived from the college. Half asleep I opened the letter and read through blurred vision and that grogginess you feel when you're woken from a deep sleep. It was 12:30 and that grogginess didn't last long as panic set in, I was meant to start that morning. I made it to college that afternoon and the course director was understanding, they had wondered why there was no reply to the letter as there was paperwork I was supposed to complete. Everything worked out in the end and the next two years were two of the happiest years of my life despite some very sad moments in their midst.
