Why are we putting ourselves in so much debt with the idea that we will get a job?

I first began my college experience at MTSU in the Fall of 2008. I’d very recently been kicked out of my parent’s home after they discovered that I’m gay.

I like my job because it’s easy but I have a lot of free time and I don’t know if this is something I want to do for the rest of my life. I also do not want to start over.

I wish that people could be good, I wish we could stop taking what isn’t ours to take, I wish we could stop always needing more. I wish I didn’t need to feel loved in order to feel like I have a reason to be alive.

If you are reading this and are struggling, know that people love you and speak your truth and tell people what is happening.

The most important thing I’ve learned in college has been the importance of being home.

The world tends to see what is different as something ugly and wrong as if anything “abnormal” is something needing to be fixed.

(TW- Suicidal attempt) I hate how often I have to tell myself to keep going in a day. I have to tell myself that it is all going to be okay if I do this or that.

I’m tired. COVID changed everything. Somewhere along the line, I lost my passion for life. Not sure why. My counselor tells me it happening everywhere.

The college selection process is hard but the reality of rejections is even harder.

Every time I hear the song “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” I’m instantly back in my mom’s vehicle driving to my boyfriend’s billet’s house. He played hockey in the small town and this was a burnt CD I had in her car.

May we be reminded that success is not in a title, a big win or lofty accomplishment..but it is in the quality of our relationships. And may we run towards our dreams and not the one that society has set for us.

2 years ago I did the thing I hated the absolute most - run. And even more I hated the cold. So of course combining the 2 things seemed like the best idea. I picked up some expensive winter running shoes, a warm toque and gloves, layered up and started winter running.

I never spoke to him again, because I remembered he raped me. But there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t remember in time to get a kit. I was drunk, so it would end up being his word against mine. I knew how that would go in Tennessee. There was nothing I could do. That’s the worst part. I couldn’t, I can’t do anything. He will never get justice for what he did to me.

I just made my friends last October and now as graduation nears, many of them are leaving. It is sad because it reminds me how temporary life is, nothing is ever truly permanent. I worry that next year, my senior year at UF, won’t be as enjoyable without the people graduating in a couple of weeks. I try to stay hopeful and I am, I just hope I don’t have to make a whole new set of friends. It was hard enough making these haha!

This isn't a feel-good story. Rather, an opportunity to get my anger and tears out. I am gay. That part I've accepted, and proud of! But guess what. My parents aren't so accepting.

My story is a little different from most here. I am not a survivor, that is, my own body did not endure the assault of cancer to it directly. The cancer that I survived was my son’s burden.

We established a solid friendship and things we fine… Until he notified me that he had feelings for me and that he would love to “be with me.”

I have always loved art, design and was never afraid to DIY anything. I have shingled my own garage roof and layed my own hardwood flooring. There was nothing I thought I could not do.

I was a top student. Always on the Dean’s list, always over-achieving, always over-delivering. Then I’d go home at night and draw. Obsessively. A completely different person than I was during the day at school. Silently screaming.