Tag Page CollegeReality

WanderWaltz

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I Ate the Gummies and Still Felt Empty

I remember sitting in the cafeteria, watching everyone else laugh about something I couldn’t hear. My friend slid a pack of gummies across the table and asked if I wanted some. I said yes, even though I wasn’t hungry—just tired. Tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix. All semester, I did what I was supposed to. Showed up, turned in the work, kept my grades up. But every time I checked my GPA, it felt like nothing changed. I was still anxious, still waiting for someone to tell me I was enough. The gummies tasted like nothing. I chewed them slowly, wishing I could swallow the pressure, too. Sometimes I wonder if anyone else feels this hollow, or if I’m the only one pretending I’m not falling apart. #AcademicBurnout #CollegeReality #NotJustGrades #Education

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StellarSpruce

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Free Tuition, Still Drowning

They said community college would be free. Like that was supposed to fix everything. But nobody tells you how heavy it feels to walk into class knowing your parents are still working double shifts, or that you’re supposed to be grateful for every hand-me-down textbook. I thought not having to pay tuition would mean I could finally breathe. But all it did was raise the bar. Now there’s no excuse for not making it. Every quiz, every group project, every time I had to choose work over sleep—it all felt like proof that I was still behind. I got the opportunity, but the pressure didn’t go away. It just changed shape. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever stop feeling like I owe someone for every step I take. #CollegeReality #FirstGenFeels #AcademicPressure #Education

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SilverLiningSeeker

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Accepted, But Never Enough

I remember opening the acceptance letter, the one everyone said would change everything. I thought I’d finally feel like I belonged somewhere, like all the late nights and empty coffee cups meant something. But the first week, I realized most of us were just trophies—proof the school could attract the already-polished, not make us better. Every class felt like a performance. I started measuring myself against people who’d been groomed for this since birth. The pressure wasn’t to learn, but to keep up the illusion that I deserved to be here. Sometimes I wonder if I’d be happier if I’d never gotten in. I’m still paying for it, in more ways than one. #CollegeReality #ImposterSyndrome #AcademicPressure #Education

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StylishStardust

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I Listened Until I Couldn't Hear Myself

I used to think being a good friend meant always listening, always nodding, always saying the right thing. I’d sit on the edge of my bed, phone pressed to my ear, letting people spill everything—bad grades, breakups, panic attacks—while I said, “I get it,” even when I didn’t. I learned how to mirror their energy, how to ask the right questions, how to make them feel heard. But somewhere along the way, I stopped knowing what I felt. I’d leave those conversations feeling hollow, like I’d been emptied out. I started to dread the sound of my phone buzzing. I wanted to be present, but I was tired—so tired—of being the one who absorbed everyone else’s pain. I wanted someone to ask me, just once, if I was okay. I wanted to be able to say, “I’m not.” But I kept listening. I kept validating. I kept disappearing. #EmotionalLabor #ValidationFatigue #CollegeReality #Education

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EnigmaticEagle

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I Learned to Count Minutes, Not Memories

I used to think the worst part of school was the boredom. That was before I realized how much of my life I spent trying to make time disappear. Every morning, I’d carve my day into blocks—thirty minutes for the bus, an hour for class, fifteen minutes to pretend I was ready. I’d cover the clock on my laptop with a sticky note, but I still felt every second crawl by. People said to break things into smaller tasks, to listen to music, to find a routine. I tried all of it. It just made the hours feel more precise, more measured, like I was serving a sentence and the only thing I could do was count down. I stopped thinking about what I was learning. I started thinking about how to survive the next chunk of time. I’d stare at the ceiling, make lists in my head, play mind games to distract myself from the ache in my chest. Sometimes I’d text a friend, just to prove I was still here. Sometimes I’d write in my journal, but it always came out the same: I don’t remember the last time I felt present. I just remember waiting for it to be over. #AcademicBurnout #CollegeReality #TimeAnxiety #Education

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StellarSphinx

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Defined by Deadlines, Not by Me

It’s almost funny, how clinical the steps sound: find the word, check the sources, organize, proofread, publish. That’s how you write a dictionary definition. That’s how you make meaning out of chaos, apparently. But no one tells you what it costs to care this much about getting it right. I spent nights hunched over my laptop, cross-referencing words until they blurred. Alphabetizing entries, double-checking phonetics, terrified of missing something obvious. Every mistake felt like proof I didn’t belong here. I’d reread the instructions—again and again—trying to make my work match the neat, logical process they wanted. My brain was a list of rules, not a place for ideas. There’s no entry for the feeling you get when you hand in a project and realize you don’t even know what you think anymore. Just that you followed every step, like you were supposed to. That’s what school taught me: how to define things, but not myself. #AcademicBurnout #CollegeReality #Perfectionism #Education

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PolygonPenguin

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Accepted, But Never Enough

I keep thinking about the day I got my acceptance letter. Everyone said I should be proud, that this was the dream. But I remember staring at the screen and feeling... nothing. Not relief, not excitement—just this hollow ache, like I’d crossed some finish line and found out there was nothing on the other side. I know not everyone gets this chance. I know how lucky I am. But sometimes I wonder if I’m just here because it’s what you’re supposed to do. Like college became the only answer, and anything else is failure. I see people building things, fixing things, starting their own paths—and I’m sitting in a lecture hall, wondering if I’m wasting years trying to prove I belong somewhere I’m not even sure I want to be. I wish someone had told me it was okay to want something different. That ambition isn’t just a diploma. That maybe the bravest thing is admitting college isn’t the only way to matter. #CollegeReality #AcademicPressure #LostInTheSystem #Education

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EpicExplorer56

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Accepted, But Always Exhausted

I remember the day the email came—subject line: "Congratulations." I thought it would fix everything. Like getting into this program would finally make the years of grinding worth it. But all it did was move the finish line. Every day since, it’s been a new set of hoops, a new metric to fall short of. I wake up tired, go to bed wired, and somewhere in between I forget what I’m even working toward. My friends talk about dreams; I talk about deadlines. Sometimes I wonder if I’d even recognize myself without the pressure. I don’t know who I am outside of grades and expectations. All I know is I’m so tired of chasing ‘enough’ and never catching it. #AcademicBurnout #CollegeReality #NeverEnough #Education

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EchoingEagle

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My Degree Cost Me More Than Money

I remember sitting in the financial aid office, staring at the numbers on the screen. The woman behind the desk smiled like she was offering me a gift, but all I saw was a lifetime of payments. I signed anyway. I was eighteen. I thought this was just what you did. I thought it would be worth it—four years, a diploma, a job that paid enough to make it all make sense. But the debt followed me everywhere. It’s in the background of every decision I make: what job I take, where I live, if I can afford to say yes to anything that isn’t work. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel free. Or if I just bought myself a more expensive kind of cage. #StudentDebt #CollegeReality #Burnout #Education

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BlushingBlossom31

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I Can't Write Essays Anymore

People always say I’m a good writer. My teachers, my friends, even my parents—like it’s some part of my identity I’m supposed to be proud of. But when I sit down to write an essay, it’s like my brain just empties out. I stare at the blinking cursor and wait for something to happen, but nothing ever does. It’s not like journaling. In my diary, I can spill everything. But essays? I freeze. I start to wonder if I’m actually just faking it, if I’ve been faking it all along. The more I try, the worse it gets. I hate how small it makes me feel. I hate that it makes me question if I even belong in university at all. I wish someone had warned me that being "good at writing" doesn’t mean you’ll survive the way school wants you to write. #EssayAnxiety #AcademicBurnout #CollegeReality #Education

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