coming back after a year without journaling

Journaling wasn't really easy to incorporate into my daily routine. I know it only takes 5 minutes of my time—sometimes more, sometimes less—but it just never felt like a priority. To me, it felt more like a chore rather than something I would do naturally. So, I stopped journaling. At first, dropping it from my routine didn’t feel like a big deal. But a year later, I felt this deep need to write again—to vent, lay out my thoughts, release what I’ve been holding inside. It never crossed my mind just how important journaling was for me. During those days when I was journaling, I unknowingly felt better.

My second year of college has been one hell of a rollercoaster—words can't even begin to describe everything I’ve been through. The lessons that struck me, the reality checks that hit like slaps across my face, the joy from even the smallest of achievements. It’s been a whirlwind, and the year isn’t even over yet. The new friendships I’ve formed along the way, the heartbreaks, the subtle betrayals—they’ve all shaped this new version of me. I’m not the same person I was last year. Every new day has felt like suffering, like there’s nothing good happening. Seriously. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wanted to die, how many times I’ve wished for the pain to stop, how often I’ve just wanted an end to this suffering. I’ve felt everything from numbness to overwhelming emotion, from burnout to eagerness, from exhaustion to bursts of energy. And I keep asking myself—will all these experiences ever turn into something meaningful? Why do I have to keep suffering? Is there a reason behind all of this? Why? Just…why?

But despite all of this, I can’t emphasize enough how grateful I am for what I have—my family, my girl, my friends, my school, my achievements, the small and simple things that make life fuller. I just hope that everything I’m doing right now will be cherished someday, that it’ll turn into something greater in the future. I hope I’ll become better, that I’ll always be better than I was yesterday. I know I won’t figure out all the answers right away, but I trust that I’ll eventually get to a place where I won’t disappoint myself. I trust myself on this journey, even if I feel anxious, drained, empty, depressed, or exhausted. Deep down, I know I’ll reach something—a plan that’s already laid out for me. And I believe in myself. I always have, from the very beginning.

Becoming the Student Council President was such a huge decision for me. It was completely out of my comfort zone—like, seriously out of it. But look at me now. I might still have moments where I’m stressed or overwhelmed, where regretful thoughts creep in, but here I am. I’m still in this position, almost at the end of the year. It’s surprising, honestly. I feel fortunate to have been strong enough to handle things I thought I’d never be able to get through—things I believed I wasn’t capable of. A shy, introverted woman stepping into a position that doesn’t even align with her personality—it’s kind of crazy. But it just goes to show how brave I’ve been to take this step. This has been the biggest turning point in my life, and I’ll never regret it—even with the stress—because it’s the lessons I’ve learned and the journey I’ve been on that truly matter. The steps I take, the decisions I make, the life I want to build—they’re what really count. Not the outcome.