University helped me through my depression

I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety at eighteen. Armed with a new prescription of anti-depressives and beta blockers, and within a month of being diagnosed, I moved away to university, at the other end of the country, an 8 hour drive away, in a town where I knew absolutely nobody.

This would probably seem scary for any young adult moving away from home for the first time. Add mental illness into the mix and it can be absolutely terrifying.

Surprisingly, making friends at university was not something I found difficult. In fact, I turned out to be one of the most outgoing people in my halls of residence. I saw this as a fresh start, a chance to reinvent myself and be the loud, bubbly person I had always wanted to be. I felt fine. I felt more than fine. I felt amazing. So I hastily put down my prescription pills and picked up the vodka in preparation for fresher life.

What I had failed to realise was that instead of accepting my illness I had reverted into a state of complete denial. For a while it worked. I relied on drunken nights out to keep me occupied and remove myself from reality. Of course, it was only a matter of time before I crashed and burned.

Instead of numbing my pain as it had done in the first couple of months, alcohol began to enhance it. I started trying to focus on my classes at uni and cut out the alcohol. I knew that it was time to motivate myself to do well, but it was near impossible.

As my illness resurfaced, my coursework suffered. Insomnia set in. I would turn up to class bleary eyed and disinterested. Even though I was physically there, my mind was somewhere else completely. The dark cloud had returned. My new-found friends did not understand why I was suddenly withdrawing myself from them. I lay in bed all day, only surfacing to get something to eat, and even then, I would take my food to my room instead of eating with the others.

Alana’s friends didn’t know why their bubbly friend couldn’t get out of bed.

I was in the depths of despair. I felt like I had failed myself and everyone that cared about me. I had only managed to keep up this façade of happiness for a couple of months. I was pathetic. As much as I wanted to make myself better, I couldn’t. This frustrated me beyond belief.

I hit rock bottom in my final term of first year. After an overdosing on my prescription medications and some painkillers, I ended up in hospital. Once I was discharged, I felt that it was time to come clean. I attended a tutorial with my lecturers and admitted everything. I told them about my illness, and I emphasised how much I hated the fact that I was giving off the impression that I didn’t care about my degree, when in reality it was what I cared about most in the world. After that moment, a weight was lifted.

University and friends became a wonderful support network.

It felt liberating to not have to make excuses to mask my illness, and finally be open to support from others. Gradually, my coursework started to improve and my friendships strengthened. By the time I reached third year I was gaining firsts, a massive improvement to the 2:2s and 3rds I had been achieving at the beginning of university.

I would be lying if I said that from that moment everything was smooth sailing. I had relapses throughout my three years at university, and in the year afterwards. I was taken to hospital three times in total for attempted suicide. I ended up in a psychiatric ward once. Despite these setbacks, however, I do feel like I am slowly but surely on the path to learning how to manage my illness.

Alana is now learning to manage her illness.

I know I will never be cured of depression, and that’s okay. It doesn’t make me weak and it doesn’t make me less of a person. It sounds cliché, but a problem shared really is a problem halved. Talking about depression plays a massive part in the recovery process. If I hadn’t been honest about my mental illness, I wouldn’t have been open to the support I received and I don’t think I would be alive today.

Going to university turned out to be a massive learning curve in self discovery and finally forced me to face up to and accept my depression, and for those reasons alone, I am confident that going to university is the best decision I have ever made.

University – the best decision she ever made.