By Charlotte Bjornbakk
Being new in Hendon is exactly like being new in any given place. Except it’s not, not for me. Having struggled with anxiety for several years, I’ve had moments after moving here where I’ve been close to a breakdown and getting on the first plane back home. Of course it passes, it always does. I get up, go to university, go grocery shopping and go out at night. Usually, I try to leave my anxiety in the corner of my room in the halls and hope it won’t follow me when I turn off the lights and lock my door. Usually, it still does. But in the same way I learn to adjust when moving to a different place, I learn to live every day with less fear.
I’ve learnt to speak up in seminars, speak to fellow students or working staff, with barely any tremble in my voice – the same way I’ve learnt to ignore the police sirens that constantly goes off every day and night. I’ve learnt to walk fast at crossing or through the gates at tube stations – and my hands barely shake when I put in my pin number when paying for groceries or drinks.
Other people terrify me the most, but they’re also the reason I carry on. Long and expensive phone calls to my mum back home in Norway, chats with my flatmates about our days, grabbing lunch with girls on my course or getting introduced to new people wherever I go. Some might say it sounds mundane and routine-like, but that’s all I’ve been craving since I got here. There’s so much to see and so much to experience, like double rainbows and sunshine outside Platt halls. Hendon is wonderful, London is wonderful and sometimes, routine is also wonderful.