What I Wish I'd Known as a Student with Mental Health Difficulties

It's that time of year again. The leaves are glowing orange and maroon, and new students have arrived in town. I see them strolling to their lectures, chatting with freshly-made friends, no doubt trying to find their way through their newfound student life. That was me many Octobers ago, as I stepped into the whole new world of an unnervingly prestigious university to study some very old books. I loved my studying, and I loved the people I met. One teensy little problem though— I was entering a terrifying mental breakdown with no idea how to stop it or where to turn.

Over the course of my degree, I learnt as much about myself and my mental health problems as I did about Sir Gawain and The Green Knight, the poetry of Emily Bronte and Modernist short stories. When I received my degree, my tears of relief were less for my comprehensive knowledge of iambic pentameter and epic theatre, and more for the fact that I had risen through my struggles and come out other side.

Whilst I've written a little about my experiences as a student on this blog and in my books, each year that goes by I learn more about myself and my mental health problems. And with that comes more that I wish I could share with my former self; my smiling, coloured-tights wearing, bike cycling, book wielding, smiling student self.

So here's a new iteration of my old posts: what I want my past student self to know and hold onto. My hope is that this may bring a snippet of comfort to students with my mental health problems who may be struggling— with shame, isolation, fear about what it means for the future— just as I was when I was a student.

What I want my past student self to know and hold onto

Allow yourself to do things differently and, if you can, allow yourself to be different.

We are not all the same and the world would be a far duller and damper place without the brilliance of differences. If you're in a cohort of students who study best in groups and you just need to be alone to study, then allow yourself to be alone. If you need extra meetings with your tutor or another professional to talk things through about your wellbeing or your studies, then go ahead and give yourself that. If you need extra time to complete some work, then it is your right to request that as a reasonable adjustment.

As a student, there is a lot of chat about how much studying people are doing, how people are prepping for exams, how many hours people are spending on coursework, which lectures people are choosing to attend etc. There is no one right way of doing these things and it's okay to do it your way. I wish I'd been more confident in my decisions about how I organised my time when I was at university, instead of worrying whether I was doing something the 'wrong way'. I also found it hard to choose how to spend my time with my attention and passion being pulled in myriad directions. If I would go back in time, I would tell younger me to accept that I really can't 'do it all'— and that's okay.

You deserve support. If it's on offer: don't be afraid to take it.

When I was a student, I felt guilt and shame for my differences and my needs. I constantly wondered whether my difficulties were 'valid enough' for support. Looking back, things would have been different if I had been able to embrace the words disabled / disability as I think this would have made me feel differently about myself. I think I would have been able to describe myself as having a difference in how I experience my emotions and my social connections, rather than calling myself defective / broken / an embarrassment / a failure. Naturally, this would have made it easier for me to hold my head up high and look people in the eye when asking for support or speaking about my lived reality, instead of looking like a dog with its tail between its legs.

A quick look at Google Trends illustrates the astonishing rise in searches for the word neurodiversity in the last three years. As a concept, the word neurodiversity and its associated movements would have opened up conversations with myself (and probably others) about the potential strengths of having intense emotions and sensitivity within interpersonal situations. I would have had fewer sticks at my disposal with which to beat myself. If you're a student now who feels (and is) different, then you might like to explore how the neurodiversity movement could help you feel more positively about your differences.

Whilst you may feel alone, you're absolutely not alone

Just because you can't see someone feeling, thinking or experiencing something, doesn't mean it isn't happening. For lots of different—and fully valid— reasons, many people don't talk about aspects of their personal lives and inner emotional worlds. When I was a student, I felt at times like I was the only one struggling with mental health difficulties of the kind requiring more intensive support. I felt isolated and embarrassed.

There would have been hundreds of students in the university experiencing difficulties requiring a high level of support, but of course I didn't know about them because people tend to keep these things private. Similarly, others wouldn't have known about my struggles unless I had told them. If you ever find yourself feeling like 'the only one', remember that there will be others too but— hidden in plain sight.

If there are any opportunities to find peer support or talk with people experiencing similar things, then I recommend taking these opportunities. I had a small number of friends towards the end of my undergraduate degree who could relate to me on some level from a mental health perspective and I found this comforting. If you can't find these people, hold onto hope that many later on in your life you will. One of my closest and most cherished friends is someone I met back in the halcyon days of Twitter and we connected over our shared mental health experiences. Later, the friendship expanded into other areas of my life, but it has remained consistently close.

Try to let the pressure wash over you

People love to say that student days are 'the best days of your life'. In many ways, this might be true. In other ways though, this is a miserable sentiment because most people are students when they're young: does this mean there is little left to look forward to later on? Of course not!

That being said, some people love being a student: perhaps the academic work itself, other experiences alongside the studies, the social life or a mix of all of these and more. Mental health problems aside, I adored my time at university. Other people might sort of like being a student, and that's okay too. Others might really not enjoy it at all.

Understandably, there might be aspects of student life that are difficult: from exam stress to feeling lonely, the stress of a life change, struggling to find a rhythm or routine, money worries or missing people you used to see often. Accepting that being a student might not always be sunshine and rainbows might take a little of the pressure off. You don't have to enjoy every single moment because life's not about enjoying every single moment.*

A different insight?

One final thought to consider: perhaps your differences give you a different perspective on something, an insight that only you can have. If so, please don't be afraid to let that show. Don't hide your light under a bushel, as the old proverb goes.

Let me know what you think of my thoughts or if there's anything else you would add. Before I go, I'm also going to leave a few old YouTube videos here on this topic.

-Rosie x

*Interestingly, when I had a baby people told me that the baby days would be the best days of my life. It seems like it's a thing people like to say. My thoughts on this is that everyone has a different 'best days of their life' and nobody will be able to judge that expect you. I would also imagine your opinion of what the 'best days' were it probably might change depending on your point of view or life circumstances on any given day, week, month or year!