Yet - as you should have guessed from the blog title/image - this post will be a little different.
Moving away from home and starting again in a new place will always be difficult. Looking at my year group, one year in, I can see that most people are happy, and looking forward to the next year, myself included. But finishing the year positively doesn't mean that the first year of university was easy. Everyone had problem days: deleted coursework, essay deadlines, break-ups, hangovers, broken equipment, student finance struggles, depression, anxiety, financial worries... Whilst the majority of students come through their difficulties, a very small number of students every year drop out of university, or suffer serious setbacks. It would be disingenuous to pretend that this doesn't happen, and all students are happy, all of the time. If you're about to start university, you should have high hopes and expectations, but you should also be prepared for some tougher times, when it won't seem as shiny as the prospectuses make out.
This is something I know about first hand. I've just passed the first year of my dream course with a solid 2:1. I've had some fabulous experiences, met some amazing people, and have a clearer idea of what I want to achieve in my future. September and second year can't come soon enough! But four or five months ago, I wasn't feeling quite so positive. I am one of the one in ten people - and one in four students - who struggles with mental health issues. Before I go on, let's talk about the term 'mental health'.
'Physical health' is a pretty self-explanatory term, referring to whether you are free from illness or disease. As GCSE P.E. taught me, you can also be 'fit' - a state separate from health, defining whether your body is running at peak capacity. An athlete with a cold is fit, but unhealthy. I, on the other hand, am healthy(ish) but pretty unfit...
Mental health is more complex than this, and more disputed. Some people argue that mental illnesses are imagined, or a by product of the society in which we live in, as exemplified by the ever-expanding Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, published in the US. Mental illness has a tremendous stigma surrounding it. (Check out this Huffpost blog by my friend Beth for more thoughts on this issue).
My own problems are, thankfully, mild compared to some of the conditions I've seen friends fighting. Yet they do have a significant impact on my life. I have a mild form of depression, which I suspect began in my early teens. It wasn't diagnosed or treated until the summer before my eighteenth birthday, after a year in which I came close to screwing up my AS Levels, had panic attacks, become increasingly withdrawn, and attempted self-harm. During my second semester at university, my depression returned, and I began to question whether I belonged at university, or whether I was studying the right subject. I felt like a failure, out of my depth in my modules, and no longer able to make logical decisions about my day to day life. I dropped out of societies I'd been committed to in the term before - much to my present regret - and spent more and more time in my room, glued to my laptop.
Thankfully, I recognised the symptoms, and after dithering for a few weeks, mustered the courage to see my doctor and my personal advisor. With the kindness of my friends and family, and some good advice, I was able to complete my first year and recover my mental 'health'. I will always have to watch myself carefully, trying to spot the symptoms of depression before it overwhelms me, but I know that it is something I can manage, and live with.
The reason I'm telling you this isn't about sharing the details of my personal life, or trying to make myself some kind of martyr. On the contrary, the thought of telling people about my illness terrifies me, as it does all mental health sufferers. The fear of rejection and misunderstanding is a serious one for anyone with a mental health problem, and I am inspired by people who talk about their conditions publicly, such as the woman interviewed on the BBC this week about the benefits of antidepressants.
One of the things that struck a chord with me in Beth's article is her statement that she 'felt as if she was being nothing more than a melodramatic teenager'. Too many people struggle in silence because they feel too ashamed and embarrassed to talk to anyone. If there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this blog post, it's that there is no shame in needing help. Admitting that you need help, like the proverbial fool who dares to ask a question, is the wisest and bravest way to tackle the situation.
To this end, here are some very basic suggestions for protecting your mental health, and coping with the stresses and pressures of life at university. Whether or not you suffer from a mental illness, looking after your mental health, and supporting your friends, is important in getting through the challenges university throws at you.
This is something I know about first hand. I've just passed the first year of my dream course with a solid 2:1. I've had some fabulous experiences, met some amazing people, and have a clearer idea of what I want to achieve in my future. September and second year can't come soon enough! But four or five months ago, I wasn't feeling quite so positive. I am one of the one in ten people - and one in four students - who struggles with mental health issues. Before I go on, let's talk about the term 'mental health'.
'Physical health' is a pretty self-explanatory term, referring to whether you are free from illness or disease. As GCSE P.E. taught me, you can also be 'fit' - a state separate from health, defining whether your body is running at peak capacity. An athlete with a cold is fit, but unhealthy. I, on the other hand, am healthy(ish) but pretty unfit...
Mental health is more complex than this, and more disputed. Some people argue that mental illnesses are imagined, or a by product of the society in which we live in, as exemplified by the ever-expanding Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, published in the US. Mental illness has a tremendous stigma surrounding it. (Check out this Huffpost blog by my friend Beth for more thoughts on this issue).
My own problems are, thankfully, mild compared to some of the conditions I've seen friends fighting. Yet they do have a significant impact on my life. I have a mild form of depression, which I suspect began in my early teens. It wasn't diagnosed or treated until the summer before my eighteenth birthday, after a year in which I came close to screwing up my AS Levels, had panic attacks, become increasingly withdrawn, and attempted self-harm. During my second semester at university, my depression returned, and I began to question whether I belonged at university, or whether I was studying the right subject. I felt like a failure, out of my depth in my modules, and no longer able to make logical decisions about my day to day life. I dropped out of societies I'd been committed to in the term before - much to my present regret - and spent more and more time in my room, glued to my laptop.
Thankfully, I recognised the symptoms, and after dithering for a few weeks, mustered the courage to see my doctor and my personal advisor. With the kindness of my friends and family, and some good advice, I was able to complete my first year and recover my mental 'health'. I will always have to watch myself carefully, trying to spot the symptoms of depression before it overwhelms me, but I know that it is something I can manage, and live with.
The reason I'm telling you this isn't about sharing the details of my personal life, or trying to make myself some kind of martyr. On the contrary, the thought of telling people about my illness terrifies me, as it does all mental health sufferers. The fear of rejection and misunderstanding is a serious one for anyone with a mental health problem, and I am inspired by people who talk about their conditions publicly, such as the woman interviewed on the BBC this week about the benefits of antidepressants.
One of the things that struck a chord with me in Beth's article is her statement that she 'felt as if she was being nothing more than a melodramatic teenager'. Too many people struggle in silence because they feel too ashamed and embarrassed to talk to anyone. If there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this blog post, it's that there is no shame in needing help. Admitting that you need help, like the proverbial fool who dares to ask a question, is the wisest and bravest way to tackle the situation.
To this end, here are some very basic suggestions for protecting your mental health, and coping with the stresses and pressures of life at university. Whether or not you suffer from a mental illness, looking after your mental health, and supporting your friends, is important in getting through the challenges university throws at you.
- Try to eat at least one 'proper' meal every day. Ideally you should be eating three meals a day and loads of fruit and vegetables.
- Keep the amount of junk food and takeaways you eat down. The chemicals in junk food can act as depressants, as well as hurt your general well-being. On one of my worst days this semester, I drunk four litres of diet coke, as well as staying up late and only eating junk food. It was a weird, psychotic experience, and put me off diet coke for life.
- Exercise. Even if it's 'just' walking (like me!), make sure you get outside every day.
- Watch how much alcohol you drink. Alcohol is a depressant; if you're already feeling low, it'll probably make things worse.
- Try to create a regular sleeping pattern. I know this is difficult as a student, more so if you're struggling with insomnia - a frequent symptom of depression - but it really does help. Apparently, we sleep in four-hour blocks, so I reckon eight hours is probably the optimal amount of sleep per night for a student. Don't sleep in too often: it messes up your body clock, and makes you feel more tired.
- Confide in your closest friends when you're feeling low, or just need a hug. In return, you can support them when they need you. Friends are lifesavers; don't keep it all to yourself. Talk to people, even when it's hard.
- Treat yourself occasionally. Keep records of nice things people say to you, or things that inspire you. Put up posters that make you smile. Open your curtains during daytime (seriously, not everyone does this at university, but perpetual night WILL make you feel low!)
- Limit how much of your day is spent attached to a screen. Computers, phones, tv - it doesn't matter. If you have to work, then take regular breaks, and do something completely different in you breaks. I like to sit in the kitchen and bother whichever member of my flat is unfortunate enough to be in there with me ;)
- Be organised with your work. Keep a record of what you have to do and when it's due. I've done all-nighters. They're not fun.
If you are concerned that you may have depression, or a related mental health issue, talk to your doctor. Some symptoms to look out for are:
- struggling with low feelings on a regular basis
- rapid loss or gain of weight; eating too much or too little
- not sleeping properly; feel disproportionately tired; insomnia
- losing interest in hobbies or work, lack of motivation
- avoiding social contact
- low self-esteem
- suicidal thoughts or self-harming tendencies
Most importantly, don't be afraid to go to the support services at your university if you need them. They are provided to be used! Every university has a slightly different system, but there will always be support in place for you. At my university, the first port of call is my personal advisor, who monitors my progress overall, and looks out for my welfare. Next is the Dean of Students office, who are able to provide extra support, deadline extensions, and arrange councelling if necessary. Then there's the student-run support service, Nightline, who exist to provide an anonymous, listening ear. I believe there's even a society dedicated to supporting students with mental health issues. Lastly, there's the Medical Centre.
The difference between school and university - between school and the rest of life - is that to reach these networks, you have to make the first step yourself and ask for help. When I 'crashed', half-way through my second semester, I thought I was a failure, for 'letting' myself get depression again. I was wrong.
J.R.
J.R.
If you'd like me to blog further on mental health issues, please let me know. I'd be interested in exploring the topic and talking to people whose experience could be useful to readers of this blog, if it would be helpful. Leave a comment, or send me a tweet @corybantically.
