Oh, nevergoodenough, you take me back to the Fall of 1964 like it was yesterday! I was a Freshman at Florida State University, and I remember watching my folks drive off leaving me standing in front of my dorm. I felt abandoned, orphaned ... OMG, cry? I did, in abundance.
When I called home the next day, my folks flatly refused to come get me. They lived half the state away and both wanted to "rescue me" (I found out later) but each lectured the other that I'd been shy and depressed much of life, and it was important that I know they believed I could do this--grow up, go to college, find my way. They were always there for me ... but I couldn't move back home.
I ended up getting a PhD and my college years were in some ways the best of my life. I'm 67 now, have since learned I'm bipolar not depressed and getting correctly diagnosed & treated helped.
But your post brought back that doubt, terror, desire to hide out forever in my cave. I still have my cave, but I use it wisely & I have had a mostly wonderful life.
Parents raise their children, and good parents help their kids find their own way into the world. That's where you find your life--parents become friends and part of your support system.
Your university has counselors and dozens of first-time students a lot like you. Ask for help from the school, and you'll find out how "normal" you are. tee hee ... a whole lot like me, as i was nearly half a century ago. Other than being a bipolar, recovering alcoholic, I turned out super-great!!
Roadie