March 28, 2022. That was my first day of Spring Quarter at college. I had three classes that day, one of which I would end up replacing. My iPad was either dead or I had forgotten to bring it, which I knew because I had notes in my journal from this exact day.
My journal entries normally consist of little notes and my favorite things, and March 28 was no different. That day, it featured a bunch of random thoughts I wrote instead of paying attention: how I wanted to go to the American School of Classical Studies to study abroad, how much I loved my classics professors, and a list of my top ten favorite things at that time. My to-do list included a Target run, purchasing my textbooks, and apartment hunting. The rest of this journal is filled with Latin homework, peppered with the occasional poem about the feeling that I’m going slightly insane.
On the last page, I wrote: “College is weird. My first year is coming to an end and I keep having these moments of ‘How did I get here? What am I doing?’ Sometimes I feel like I have no idea why I am here or how I have made it this far. It’s like everything I’m supposed to know has escaped my mind.”
Little did I know that first Spring Quarter would go on to set a depressing precedent: The final 10 weeks of school would be the most unbelievable, chaotic, and emotional time of the year.
That first spring, I was taken advantage of by people I cared about and coped by writing out those events as a Percy Jackson fanfiction. My second spring, I dealt with the deaths of my childhood pets and my deteriorating social life by binge-watching sitcoms. Third year, I completely surprised myself by completing my honors thesis when I truly had no faith in my ability. The common denominator was a sense of total dissociation: the awful sense that I had looked away for just a moment and lost track of where I was, how I got there, and where I was going.
Spring always feels so gray in my head each year, but this time around, I would like for that to change. I’ve decided to do a few things differently this final spring that will also help me commemorate my last days at UC San Diego.
- Writing about my days: I began journaling before bed to document my last 100 days as an undergraduate student. I make sure that no matter how tired I am, I get in at least a few words. My theory is that if I journal every day, it will help me ground myself and fight off dissociation and memory lapses. So far, it’s given me a better idea of where I am, where I’m going, and how I got there.
- Attend all my classes: I am nowhere near having perfect attendance, but that’s exactly why I think this is a good goal. The fact that I’m not going to see some of my friends and professors on a regular basis come June is enough to make me go to class just so I can chat with them afterward while I still can. Besides, when else am I going to be able to walk through campus, admiring Geisel, and know that this is my home?
- Disconnect from technology: Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I’m doing what I can to connect with the people I love — including myself. Spending my free time on Instagram reels has to end — even if I do love a good “Challengers” edit. Unplugging to me looks like not letting myself rot in bed on my phone for hours, not going on my phone in the morning or at night before bed, and making sure that when I’m out with friends, it’s off and away. It helps keep me present in the moment, which is all I want for my last few weeks here at UCSD.
I’m not saying that I’ll stick to these guidelines perfectly, but soon enough, I won’t be able to experience these everyday moments I take for granted, so I have to try.
Even though past Spring Quarters felt gray in the moment, I find that whenever I do look back on those months, all I see is yellow. I remember enjoying the warm sun in the Warren hammocks in my first year. I look at my best friends and think about how I realized at the end of my second year that they genuinely loved me for me. That same band I saw live for the first time my first year, I met at the end of my third. And I did it — last year, I studied abroad at the American School of Classical Studies. I know now that despite the sadness I may be feeling, I will always look back on Spring Quarters and see yellow. I will remember laughing with my friends, the new Wallows’ albums coming out, and binge-watching “Brooklyn 99.”
With 70 days left of undergrad, I’m trying to keep that in mind. The journaling helps; I’m reminding myself to give myself grace, and that it’s okay if I miss a day or two. I find myself in a very similar situation as March 28, 2022: writing about going to Greece again, how much I’m going to miss my professors, and my adventures apartment hunting with my roommate. It’s funny how life comes back around in circles. I hope that when I look back on my last Spring Quarter at UCSD, I remember how it felt to be in those last 100 days, and I hope all I see is yellow.
