When I talk to people about my time at Binghamton University, I generally have good things to say. This is where I met my best friend and countless others who made my time here worth it. This is where I learned about the world beyond the suburban pocket of Queens I grew up in. This is where I found a community.

But I tend to skirt around my freshman year. Maybe I’ll bring up the treacherous experience of Oneida Hall — I still complain about the communal bathrooms — or the economics class I took when I naively thought I’d major in it. More likely, I’ll bring up how the girl I was randomly paired to live with turned out to be one of my favorite people in the world.

These things are all true. These are the things I want to remember. But they aren’t the whole picture.

During my freshman year, I was at the lowest point in my life. Some of the details I won’t repeat, both out of privacy and a hesitation to make my final piece with Pipe Dream a major bummer.

The broad strokes are this: I was in a brief relationship that spiraled into a toxic situation where we both were miserable. It ended with what I then thought was standard-fare messy college pseudo-breakup. Of course, it was not.

They popped up in places they shouldn’t have known I was. They monitored my Spotify account for reasons I’m still not quite sure of. The last time we spoke, they created a playlist spelling out in song titles how I would get what was coming to me, before appearing on my floor months after they’d transferred. Even within the last year, I’ve seen them in the “search appearances” tab on LinkedIn.

I don’t like talking about this. When I do, I’m a little scared, a little angry and even more embarrassed. I think of all the mistakes I made. All the signs I brushed off, the things I shouldn’t have said, the ways I enabled their behavior.

That year, I hated myself. I hated that I had been stupid enough to get into that situation in the first place. I hated the ways I hurt them and the ways they hurt me. I hated the strange sense of attachment I still felt, even knowing I was dumb and careless and potentially putting myself in danger.

The terror, the confusion, the guilt — it changed me. I was a husk. I couldn’t sleep. I lost 15 pounds. I barely left my dorm, too scared to go outside beyond classes. I fantasized about how much easier it would’ve been if I never met them or if I never existed at all.

That spring, I started therapy. It began as Telehealth appointments, limited to five total, which didn’t do much. But in my sophomore year, I managed to get seen in person, which tremendously helped my recovery. I worked on my now-amplified anxiety and learned coping skills for my panic attacks. At the end of the year, I was prescribed medication that has done wonders for me and my happiness.

That was the same year I joined Pipe Dream. Now we’re getting into more typical senior column territory!

I’ve always loved writing. I was one of those kids who read a book a day — and yes, I was obnoxious in the way most of those kids are. You could ask my mom, and she’d tell you that I was reading my stories to my family at my Granny’s house before my handwriting was legible. This love was why I picked creative writing as one of my majors — and why Pipe Dream caught my eye as I walked through UFEST my freshman year.

For presumably obvious reasons, I didn’t join that year. Instead, I went to a GIM in September 2023 and signed up to join News and Copy. I was thrust into an environment where I had no idea what I was doing, but with an amazing group of people to mentor me until I kind of did. It was this environment that encouraged me to apply as a news intern that spring, then an assistant news editor and, finally, editor-in-chief.

Pipe Dream was just as important to my recovery as therapy and medication. When I joined, I was terrified of meeting new people, out of fear that they might hurt me again — or worse, they’d realize there was something wrong with me and run for the hills. I thought there must’ve been something to warrant what happened to me, and the people who stuck around only did so because they thought I was still the person I used to be.

I was wrong, so wrong, about all of it.

Obviously, being required to attend events and interview people was a big step, but more importantly, Pipe Dream introduced me to some of the smartest, funniest, kindest people I know. People who knew me after I had changed, after I began thinking of myself as a broken, monstrous thing instead of the person I was, and who helped me become who I am now.

I’m not cured. I might not ever be. Being editor-in-chief brought me countless sleepless nights, breakdowns and backslides into behavior I thought I had abandoned. Barely leaving my room, sleeping all day, refusing to eat. Even now, I find myself picking seats with a view of the door just in case.

But this time, I had a community that I needed and needed me. I had work that was much more important than my own hesitations or fears. I’m back, and that terror, that confusion, that guilt are not who I am.

Even in moments that rivaled my freshman year, I knew I had people to turn to, to help me make light of it, to be there for me. I’ll always be grateful for all of you.

Emma: Oh my God, were we in it together. You kept me sane, and commiserating and celebrating with you made everything worth it. I’m so glad to have spent this year with you.

Brandon and Lia: Thank you for teaching me what it means to be a leader. Brandon, you cultivated the environment that helped me so much more than you’ll know. Lia, you are endlessly patient and caring, and trust me, your advice is never unsolicited. I hope I made you both proud.

Vera and Christina: I cannot wait to see how you two will lead the paper and I have no doubt that you will do incredible things. Remember that you have each other, and that’s worth a lot. Nuala: You are incredibly smart and resourceful and I’m so excited to read your work next year. Being news editor is a large responsibility, and I know you’re going to excel.

Ella and Tresa: You made production something I looked forward to every week. Thank you for your friendship, your guidance and for letting me overshare countless times.

Joseph: I look up to you a lot, and you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. I promise I don’t resent all that late-night editing.

Antonia and Jordan: What a wild ride we had, but all that showed me was just how capable and intelligent you guys are.

Pipe Dream’s staff: I feel like I got closer to a lot of you this year, and I’m so glad. Whatever happens and no matter what you do after college, you’re all going to do amazing.

Maddie: I love you so, so much. I’m so grateful that you picked me to live with just because I had my Instagram linked on the housing portal. Nayeli: You’re probably going to rule the world. I can’t wait to see it.

Mom and Dad: Thank you both for everything you’ve done for me and for shaping me into the person I am today. Frankie and Shane: You two have grown up to be so smart, thoughtful and kind. Whatever incredible things you do, you will always be my annoying little brothers. Granny: I miss you so much. I hope you’re proud of me and that I’ll see you again one day.

Risa, Sophia and Ava: We’ve changed so much and been through a thousand different group chats, but I’m incredibly thankful to have you in my life.

You: I know you’ll read this. I’m okay with that. I hope that you’re doing well, that you’ve found peace and that I never see you again.

And to Pipe Dream’s future leaders, it will be hard. Some of you might be struggling like I was, scared of everything and everyone. But the work you will do is endlessly important, and you will meet some of your favorite people.

It’ll all be worth it. At least, it was for me.

Grace Scullin, a senior double-majoring in English and philosophy, politics and law, is Pipe Dream’s editor-in-chief. She was an assistant news editor from 2024-25.