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WHEN A GRAY CLOUD APPEARS
Here I was, 17 years old, about to enter college, eager and prepared to start my future and then in a matter of one day…gone. My life was turned inside out because of one seven letter, four syllable, four vowel word.
In March of 2013 I committed myself to The State University of New York at New Paltz, entering as a student in the BFA Graphic Design program for the upcoming fall semester. In May I graduated high school and spent the Summer preparing myself for this next stage of my life, even though it felt as if I had been preparing for years. Having had only a subpar high school experience, I was elated at the opportunity to start somewhere fresh. I prayed the summer would fly by and fortunately before I knew it the third week of August had arrived.
On August 18, 2013 I packed up my belongings, stowed them away in my mother’s car and my family piled in to bring me to New Paltz. During the process of looking at colleges, one of the most important things to me was being close enough to home. New Paltz ended up being the perfect distance for me, one hour away from home. I was able to have my space but I was close enough to family when I needed them.
An hour later we pulled into the college’s campus and scouted down my dorm, Bouton Hall. We unpacked the car, met my new roommate, went to dinner, and then it was time for goodbyes. Even with all the time spent preparing for this new adventure, I hadn’t accounted for this moment, the time I would say, “See you later,” to my family. When I hugged my mom goodbye I didn’t want to ever let go. Reality was setting it that I was starting something completely new in a place I was familiar with quite yet. As I waved to my family driving away, tears streamed down my face and I was frozen.
I proceeded back to my dorm and as we unpacked my roommate and I became acquainted. We seemed to immediately have a good connection which eased my nerves greatly. As I laid in bed that evening images of my family flooded through my mind and puddles filled in my eyes, I didn’t sleep for a second that night.
The following days we joined in the new student activities which served as a distraction for my brain and soon classes began. At 8:00 am on a Tuesday morning I paraded into my first class feeling capable and qualified to take on the challenge, but apprehension still sat in the back on my mind.
Twenty minutes into my first college class my heart began pounding, I started sweating, and it felt like someone was holding onto my lungs. I picked up my bag and without a word I excused myself from the room and proceeded back to my dorm. After explaining the event to my mom I tried to relax, but my body began shaking uncontrollably. My roommate walked into the room and immediately grabbed the Resident Advisor on duty who sat with me until I was able to calm my body and eventually fall asleep.
Wednesday morning I woke up and ventured to class as if nothing has occurred the day prior. As I took my seat I noticed my hands and legs twitching and I began to feel light headed. As procedure I got up, took my bag, and exited the room. I walked up the stairs to my third floor dorm room and as I did so I noticed my vision began to fade while panic was setting in. I swiped the key card for my room and that was it. That was the last thing I remember until a woke up from passing out. My legs were numb, I couldn’t stand, and the room was spinning. Within fifteen minutes the paramedics were standing in my dorm room guiding me to the ambulance.
I was taken to Kingston Hospital, with my roommate who I had only known for what felt like five minutes in the passenger seat of the ambulance. Countless hours and tests, I was discharged at four o’clock in the morning and journeyed back to my dorm.
I was treated for a severe anxiety attack. Doctors told me that it was as if my body was shutting down on me because it couldn’t handle something and I immediately knew that was college. The following day my body was completely weak, I was still unable to walk, and my mother arrived at school. Decision time.
I left school that day with the thought in mind that I would be back after a few days rest. That wasn’t the case. When I came home the anxiety only amplified and I was forced to go on medical leave for the semester, in other words I was forced by my body to put my dream of college on hold. I returned to New Paltz a few days later to pack up everything I had just finished unpacking and I was headed home.
For the next three months of my life, I lived in what I considered a comatose state of mind, completely unaware of what was going on around me. Being home only added to the anxiety because I felt as though I was falling behind in school now. I became depressed and found myself spending my days staring at the clouds. My parents arranged for me to visit a therapist, which I found to be one of the most challenging things to do. Telling a complete stranger everything that was wrong with me when I didn’t even know what was going on. I had no understanding of my body. It was as though I was trapped in my body, anxiety had turned my life upside down and I was lost with the idea of returning to college no where in sight.
Ever since I was a child, drawing was something that consistently cleared my mind. As I laid watching the clouds one afternoon I felt an urge to sketch. I picked up my sketchbook and with pencil in hand I began drawing the clouds above. Immediately my focus was taken off my anxiety and I became lost in the paper. Gripping that pencil and applying pressure to the page I finally felt in control. My body may have still been weak, but I had found something I could do to regain confidence in myself. I quickly found myself spending the majority of my days with my head in my sketchbook.
In showing my therapist the drawings I had created, she explained to me that this was somewhat of a common practice and that you can self heal through your artwork. By decoding elements in the work such as color or symbols, you can find signifiers of what is causing you destress. I spent weeks consumed with the desire to create and as time went by I developed my strength back. The more I drew, the more at ease I felt.
The following year I returned to SUNY New Paltz as a student ready for round two. I am now completing my senior year and will soon graduate to the next step in life. There was a time I thought I would never return to college because I was being held back my anxiety, but I am actually grateful for the experience because I am now stronger then I ever could have been before. Going through such a traumatic experience that pushed me down several times over was in no way easy, but having art as something I could turn to honestly saved my life. To this day I still suffer from anxiety but I now know how to take hold of it and not let it control my life, I also always have my sketchbook on me just in case.