How having depression at Glasgow Uni has affected me

Waking up in the fetal position on a hospital bed, with my face in a pool of my own drool for the second time in one weekend, it’s easy to forget the type of person I was a year and a half ago.

My biggest problem was not knowing when to shut up. I can’t shut up on a night out, causing arguments and tears from Beer Bar to Bamboo. When I’m drunk especially my mind starts to drown in my own thoughts – thoughts that I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. This brings the suicidal element to the table. “Stay away from the drink,” I can almost hear you saying. I did, and I turned to drugs. To everyone I describe drugs as a plaster – a short term fix, a covering up of my deep wounds cut by depression. The drugs make me happier, more confident, and I can almost feel like my old, pre-depression self again. Then, then the comedown hits and the suicidal thoughts emerge again.

How can I stay away from drugs when Glasgow tops the Scottish tables for the number of students who take drugs? They’re everywhere. At a place like university where the temptation is a lot stronger than my willpower, it’s difficult for anyone to avoid drugs and alcohol, never mind someone who would do anything to escape their own thoughts.

I once made a promise to a friend that no matter how bad my depression got I’d never “commit”. I’d never put them through that, something they’d already experienced once before. But a combination of drugs and alcohol had me try to break that promise. It had me scream and cry and blast the people I care about most in the world. Flatmates, friends and parents included. I was saying everything that was on my mind, oblivious to what I was saying as the combination of stuff I was off my face on was wiping my memory. I was waking up, in and out of consciousness and taking more to combat the comedown. But the words I was yelling at everyone, the words that I can only imagine how much hurt it caused them, isolated me. Everyone was done – done babysitting me, done watching me destroy myself and refusing to get help. It was a vicious circle for four days, which led me to be one Xanax pill away from death. I was unable to be woken by a doctor for fifteen minutes straight, despite being violently shaken and even slapped. Four days which saw me have to move flat. Four days which saw me lose people that meant the world to me.

 

I’m not writing this for pity – in fact, it’s far from it. It’s a warning to anyone else who may be suffering from depression at university, be it Glasgow or anywhere else. Even without drink or drugs, university can be a daunting experience – moving away from home, adjusting to a new way of life and at points feeling so alone despite all the people around you. Don’t turn to self-medication. Explore the avenues offered by the universities. It’s not always easy to fill out a good cause form and state your inability to get out of bed and get dressed as the reason for missing a tutorial. But with the number of students seeking help for depression more than doubling in recent years, the University has had to adjust.

I’ve been incredibly lucky with the support I’ve received from Glasgow’s School of Law and there’s an incredible university counselling service. Or, if this doesn’t suit you, speak to your GP, find something that works for you. Get medical help. Equally, whilst confiding in your friends is healthy they’re not medical help. Friends are good to rant to but they’re not carers and putting your problems on them isn’t the solution – again something I had to learn the hard way.  And neither is drink or drugs. Yes, it’s going to be hard going without drink or drugs when so much of the student population engages with one or the other weekly, if not daily. Yes, there’s going to be days I want to escape. But no, drink or drugs isn’t the answer. Neither is suicide.

For anyone out there wanting to escape depression through these avenues, please get medical help. The last thing I want is for anyone else to wake up in a hospital bed, confused and alone, depression worsened by substance abuse. Depression is often a taboo subject. But depression at university is no joke, and it needs to be talked about.