Starting a blog

Hi all! (or no-one; not sure if anyone will actually be interested in this, so....)
I started orientation at St. Michael's College yesterday. It was both move-in day, convocation, and the first day of orientation. As you can probably imagine, it was intense. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The decision to come to St. Michael's was, in hindsight, obvious from the very beginning. But this summer made me question very seriously my decision to come here. You see, two friends of mine were crossing the street on the way to a fireworks show in early July. They were struck by a car. One of them was killed and the other was injured badly. I was in California at the time and, upon hearing the news, was distraught. I was on a flight home two days later.
Since then, my friends have become a family. We have spent so much time together over the past two months, it feels wrong to be leaving them to go to college. It's very strange. However, I am confident that we will all remain the family that we are over the coming years. Our friend united us in a way we didn't think possible, and while I'd give anything to have her back, I consider myself blessed for the family I have gained.
This summer made coming to college difficult. Tensions ran high for the final three weeks I stayed at home. I got into a few arguments with my mother, which resulted in many tears, and stress abounded. Regardless, though, I have made it here.
Move-in day was difficult. We got everything moved in (I wouldn't call it settled, but all my stuff was in the room assigned to me, so it was a start), then I had to go and do a bazillion things for the next ten hours. It. Was. Exhausting.
By the time convocation came around, it was starting to hit me: I wouldn't have my parents around anymore. I was leaving them, they were leaving me. My friend was dead. My friends all were heading to college throughout the country. I was the farthest north. And I knew nobody here.
I started crying before convocation even started. I cried silently the whole way through, with sparkling, fat tears dripping down my tears the whole time.
When it was over, I was expected to run around with the rest of the class, but I found my mom outside the chapel and just hugged her, burying my face in her shoulder and shaking with sobs. I couldn't stop crying. I knew, logically, that I'd be fine, but I couldn't deal with it. I just couldn't. It was crushing. So much happened over the summer--I was convinced that if she left, I'd never see her again. After all, my friend was dead. Who was to say it couldn't happen to my family?
Eventually (and by eventually, I mean a half hour later), they got me calmed down enough to let them leave and let me go to the orientation events. My RA gave me expert advice that really helped me, and so I knew that I'd be okay eventually. Even so, I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue with pursuing my education so far from home.
I sat apart from everything until the Rock-Paper-Scissors tournament. I originally wasn't going to participate, but my RA encouraged me and, somehow, I wound up playing. And, by some miracle (I honestly believe it was divine intervention, because it should NOT have been possible), I wound up beating every single person I played against--to the point where I had 200 people screaming for me. In the end, I was the champ, and I don't know who was more surprised--the guy I beat, or me (personally, I think it was me).
Before I knew it, the night was over. I headed to my dorm and got ready for bed, and, before I could fall asleep, I felt the emotions just surge over me again. I sobbed. I cried silently, and even texted my mom. I wanted to go home. I couldn't stay. There was no way--it was just too overwhelming. I couldn't do it. I'd do anything she wanted me to. I'd go home, get a job, get my drivers license, anything. I did not want to stay. Part of me knew I'd regret going home, but I couldn't see myself living the way I was. I was scared, I was sad, and I was beyond tired.
I fell asleep crying.
The next morning, the emotions hit me again. I was crying before I'd been awake for five minutes (it didn't help that I was super confused about where I was at first). It all came rushing back. I wanted to go home.
I went to breakfast (on the way, some of the O-leaders recognized me as the RPS champ and started screaming and cheering, to which I responded with a watery smile and a friendly wave) and managed to choke down some of my fruit and yogurt before I felt like I was going to vomit mid-swallow. Then, I headed back to the dorm and tried to psych myself up for the day.
My mom called me and I just sobbed into the phone. She told me to take my medicine (the kind reserved for my panic attacks, which I haven't had to take in my two years of even having the medication), and, after some prompting, I listened. Less than ten minutes later, I felt like I had a better grip on the situation. Much calmer, still teary, but like I was capable of doing this.
Saying goodbye was still hard. Mom, Dad and my sister all came to help me with an extra storage container and to walk me to the on-campus wellness center. I scheduled appointments with a therapist and such, and then it was time to say goodbye. I sobbed some more. I hugged a lot. And finally, they were gone.
I don't know how I did it.
After they left, I got lunch and headed out around Burlington for some activities. We wound up at an art gallery (which was AWESOME--you'll probably hear all about it later this year, since it seems I'll be there a LOT) and then a ceramics studio, where we got to do a little hands-on sculpting :3 I can see myself there often, even if ceramics and 3D stuff isn't my forte.
After was Ben and Jerry's and dinner, (yes, in that order) and then floor meetings and more orientation stuff. It has been a LONG day. I'm not entirely sure what kind of day it was, but it was long. Very, very long.
I'm gonna go shower and sleep now, and psych myself up for the next day. I still miss my parents, and I still want to go home, but I think I can manage. Just one day at a time.