As I’m typing this, I’m in the valley seated on a red rock just east of God’s Ass.

It is a balmy 55 degrees, with light winds and cloudy skies. The red sandy trails are muddy with snowmelt, but I’ve managed to negotiate them just fine in my cowboy boots (I really need to keep my hiking boots in my truck). I don’t have my camera, I haven’t had lunch yet, but after spending time on campus today, I just needed to retreat to the valley for a bit. 

It’s been a long day… And it’s only noon. 

I’m not sure why, but I went to campus feeling much jumpier than usual. I just felt completely out-of-place; even more so than I’ve been feeling. I felt completely and utterly trapped, like the towering skyscrapers surrounding me were closing in. The city air felt stuffy and suffocating; every time I inhaled, some unpleasant scent, like car exhaust or perfume, would fill my nostrils rather than fresh air. And, as usual, there were people everywhere, and none of them seemed even remotely friendly. 

Still, I pressed on, knowing that I was just suffering from a particularly strong bout of anxiety. I figured by walking faster and even trudging through snow, I’d be able to get some of the jitters out of my system. Unfortunately, no amount of hard, physical work seemed to relax me even a little. 

Why was I so anxious? Again, I didn’t know. I just had to trust that it was entirely irrational and it would soon go away. 

Unfortunately, my anxiety never went away for as long as I was on campus. In fact, it grew only worse and worse as I sat through my biology lecture. My body was screaming at me to get up and get moving. But where to? I was right where I needed to be. 

A little over an hour later, the biology lecture ended and I got the hell outta dodge! 

I hoofed it back to my Xterra, which was parked on the fourth floor of the Tivoli garage. Not even eight flights of steep, concrete stairs put a dent in my inexplicable anxiety.

Even once I was on the road, headed southwest on I-25 towards 6th avenue, my anxiety didn’t even slightly loosen its grip. My chest felt sore, my throat felt tight, my mouth felt dry. I guzzled down an entire bottle of water before I even got past the Federal exit, and still, I felt terrible. 

Whatever was going on, I knew that going directly home and hiding in my basement den wasn’t the solution, nor was wolfing down a burrito from Chipotle. After all, I still had lots of busywork to tackle, but if I went directly home, I wouldn’t be able to focus. So, once I reached the Ken Caryl exit off 470, instead of turning left at the light, I veered right, passing between two hogbacks into the valley. 

As soon as my boots stepped onto red rock, all of my anxiety and stress instantly lifted from my shoulders. My lungs welcomed the cool, fresh air and the scents of mud, grass, and ponderosa trees. And instead of feeling trapped by the massive red rock wall to my right, I felt safe and protected by it. 

Now that my head’s clear, once again, and my body’s no longer stuck in panic-mode, I can start to understand why I was feeling so stressed out earlier. My body wasn’t reacting to anything new. I think the stress of going to university in downtown Denver just built up over time, and I never took much (if any) time out of my day to release that pressure, as I’ve been so focused on plowing through schoolwork and forcing myself to get used to my new surroundings. 

Thing is, I can’t force myself to get used to something new, especially something as drastic and terrifying as pursuing a fucking STEM degree at one of the top research universities in the nation. 

Of course, I’m frustrated by this fact. I’m frustrated that it simply takes time- time I feel I do not have- to get used to something so new and previously unthinkable as university. Especially since the “getting used to” part is so hard for me to do, physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. 

What do I mean by that?

Well, physically speaking, I’m still very skittish throughout the day. I can’t always tell if I’m excited or terrified. Perhaps, it’s a bit of both, and my body just struggles to differentiate the two since, physiologically speaking, happy excitement and terror are the exact same thing. 

Indeed, it’s the emotion behind those physical feelings that define whether they’re good or bad. And, I’ll be honest, my emotional state ain’t that great either; it tends to err on the side of terror, rather than looking forward to the day ahead. 

Emotionally, it’s equally hard. When my body freaks out on me, it’s very difficult to keep my mind calm. It’s doable, and so far, I’ve managed to keep my cool despite my body freaking the fuck out sometimes (especially my heart. My heart does nothing but race from the time I wake up till the time I get home from campus). But, I’ve had my moments, and some days are harder than others. 

Spiritually, I’m also a mess. Attending university has plunged me into the depths of a major identity crisis that I cannot put into words. Whatever I’m enduring right now is arguably worse than the identity crises I experienced in community college. 

The crises themselves are no different at university than they were in community college; I still think I’m woefully ill-prepared for college, and no matter what I do (or don’t do) to blend in with the academic crowd, I’ll always be considered the village idiot and the butt of everyone’s jokes. But at university, where I’m surrounded by immaculate greenspaces, ornate buildings, and people who are dressed to impress and seem to have their shit together, those feelings of inadequacy are being amplified tenfold.

As of now, all I want to do is retreat to the safety of isolation, and never go back to university.