The Student Lifestyle: Drinking Culture

Callum shares his experience with drinking culture at university and student financial hardship

Callum - Centre for Mental Health

As a student, like many students before me, I have been known to drink. Heavily.

At universities, there is a pervasive drink and drug culture. To many students, drinking feels like an essential activity. In my own experience, alcohol consumption was tagged onto nearly every enterprise. I couldn’t play mini golf, go to the cinema, or even attend lectures, without alcohol somehow featuring. I would drink on a weeknight, and then skip my morning lectures. I would fend off my hangover, and miss most of the day, before repeating the process that night.

Drinking did more than hurt me physically. When drinking heavily, I would lose all connection with the people around me. I would only see my friends when drinking. I couldn’t talk to them; catch up with them; share my life with them. I became a caricature of myself, just as they were of themselves. It was incredibly isolating.

This is combined with the toxic ‘student bubble’: a bidirectional exclusionary relationship, between students and the wider city. It results in the segregation of students – however unintentional - from the broader community. Exacerbated by the extreme drinking culture of student life, the student bubble can be impenetrable to the community at-large.

Problem drinking is not the fault of students – at least, not in its entirety. Alcohol is highly available, and is a lot easier to access than mental health support. Disordered alcohol consumption is linked to trauma and mental ill health. Often, people use alcohol to self-medicate.

Alcohol licensing laws are fairly lax in England, and this is especially true for off-license stores. Perhaps unsurprisingly, we see a relative abundance of these stores in the most deprived areas of the country – areas where many students are living. To resolve these issues, in my opinion, stricter regulation of alcohol should be implemented. One method to achieve this is to implement a minimum unit pricing, whereby alcohol cost cannot sink below a certain price per unit. Another is to enforce stricter licensing laws across England, and to tax alcohol sales more highly. By out-pricing high-strength alcohol, I believe drinkers will be left with safer choices.

Moreover, community groups should be supported and incentivised to include students in their programmes. This could also be true for societies affiliated with the student’s union. In my experience, this community cohesion could do much to reduce the relative isolation and harms associated with the student bubble. This may also help to reduce drinking in student populations.

I realise that, in recent years, things have gotten much worse. As a PhD student, I now receive a stipend and have a meagre safety net beneath me. Despite this, I still find myself in financial hardship on a semi-regular basis. It makes me wonder what life must be like for some undergraduate students. In a housing market akin to the one I lived in - just more extreme and unfair - their loans must be grossly insufficient. Combined with sky-high electrical costs, and an ever-more expensive grocery shop, there must be immense pressure on today’s students.

It isn’t acceptable. Under these conditions, people will feel trapped by their circumstances, and experience mental ill health. It doesn’t have to be this way. We should promote a fairer, more equitable housing system. We must compel employers to pay the real living wage, and to provide safe working conditions. We must hold landlords to account for the health and safety of their tenants, and be more flexible with contracts in cases where tenants face harm.

Overall, we must advocate for a mentally healthier nation. One for students. One for everyone.

Find out how you can get involved with the Student Minds Blog.

I am enthusiastic neuroscience student (PhD) and policy intern for Center for Mental Health, passionate about using research to change people's lives for the better.  

I am determined to work with researchers to change the mental health conversation, and advocate for fairer and more equitable health policies in the UK.

Baby steps to post-collegiate health

Dustin shares his experience with addiction and how he took baby steps towards recovery.

-  Dustin Kemp

Back in 2019, I had just finished a graduate program at a branch of an American university located in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. I would love to say I had put my head down and doggedly pursued my studies like a good grad student, but the truth is that I got hopelessly lost along the way. To be more specific, I had developed a pair of nasty habits.

The first was smoking cigarettes. It had begun as a social activity I did with friends. Before too long, though, I started to really enjoy the feeling a cigarette gave me. And soon I stopped enjoying it and started to rely on it to maintain normality.

With  this dependence came negative feelings. Not only did the smoking itself make me feel lower-energy at all times, but the addiction brought on a feeling of helplessness I could not shake. I felt as if I was no longer in control of my life, which was an awful feeling.

My second dangerous habit was online gambling. I found it difficult to find exciting mental stimulation as a student in Vietnam… until I discovered online casinos. I went through the same phases with gambling addiction that I did with cigarettes; what started out as fun evolved into habit and then agonising dependence.

Unlike cigarettes, gambling did have a big impact on my bank account. My parents were sending me a large chunk of money each month at that point -- I’m lucky to come from a supportive background. But I was blowing nearly all of it on gambling.

I’ll always remember a line from the speech the dean gave on my university’s auditorium stage during graduation: “Now it is time for our graduates to begin their journey into the working world, and all the trials and tribulations that come with it.”

I took that line to heart, and I asked myself what those “trials and tribulations” would entail for me. Would I bring my demons with me? Would I continue sapping my health and losing money at a worrisome clip? The obvious answer was no, but I could hardly bring myself to stop those behaviours which had so quickly come to make up most of my identity… or so I felt at the time.

So instead of going cold turkey, I chose to take baby steps. My uncle (a reformed smoking addict) had told me about nicotine vapes that you can slowly decrease in nicotine content over time. I decided to give it a try, and I ordered one of the vapes from a local distributor.

Since then, I have very gradually decreased the nicotine content I smoke. I feel more clear-headed and I have a definite sense of pride in my own ability to make positive change that I never would have if I was still nursing my smoking habit. Eventually, I hope to get to 0% and, even further down the road, shed the vape completely. Baby steps.

For my online gambling addiction, I took another recommendation from a relative. My brother (who has always been much healthier than me) had for years been telling me to join him at a social casino he uses. He told me it’s free and it still provides the same mental stimulation as paid gambling through socialisation. When I realised online gambling would destroy my bank account (which my parents refused to continue supporting after I graduated), I decided to give the social casino idea a try.

And just like with the vape, I was astounded. I had always believed that the mental stimulation I needed could only be acquired through putting myself in dangerous situations, but that turned out to be totally false. Instead, I found stimulation by spending time with other happy, friendly individuals. And as an added benefit, I made friends online. Lots of them. It turns out healthy communities are actually a lot nicer than communities filled with addicts. Who knew?

I want to make it clear that I am not endorsing vapes or social casinos. I wish more than anything I had not started smoking or gambling in the first place, and that I did not need to use them as a coping mechanism. But I am endorsing baby steps. Almost everyone develops some kind of unhealthy habit, especially as a young person. And I want you to know that it is possible to kick those habits through small, incremental changes. Adopting a healthier lifestyle and removing negative habits from your life is a crucial part of success in the real world.

Read more about the small steps you can take to look after your wellbeing.

Dustin graduated from College of Wooster (USA) in 2010 and completed graduate studies at RMIT (Australia) in 2019. Since then, he has been focusing on mental health topics, especially addiction and recovery.

 

He currently lives in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, where he is learning to embrace life in a healthy and upwardly mobile way.

Challenging the Peer Pressures Culture around Alcohol in University

Emily shares her experience about the struggles to fit in with the drinking culture at university and how she hopes the culture of peer pressure drinking can change.

- Emily

Being able to say no and stay true to my own values is something I have always taken pride in. However, once I started at university, feelings of shame regarding my personal alcohol choices quickly took over.

The focus on alcohol during Freshers’ Week… 
The idea of getting to meet new people and hang out with my new flatmates was such an exciting thought to me. However, when looking at what was on offer during Freshers’ Week, I quickly realised that the majority of events hosted by societies and clubs were centred around drinking. I felt so anxious turning up to events and was quickly put off saying ‘yes’ to new social opportunities and groups gathering, scared that those activities would be predominantly alcohol-based.

Feeling ashamed that I hadn’t drunk much before coming to uni…
In spite of its popularity, pre-drinking was a totally new concept to me. While everyone else seemed as though they knew exactly what they were doing, I never knew what to bring with me or when to turn up and felt too embarrassed to admit this to others. So many of my friends seemed to already know their limits and I was still figuring out which alcohol I could tolerate the taste of! Eager to make a good first impression, I buried my embarrassment and reluctance. My biggest fear was that people wouldn’t include me as part of their social group because I didn’t enjoy the drinking culture most students lived for.

Always having to give a reason for not drinking… 
A major issue I encountered when choosing not to drink was having to justify my decision at every occasion. I felt as though I had to come up with elaborate excuses, rather than being able to drink and enjoy myself. Telling people I had to get up early the next morning, so wouldn’t drink that night, even when this was far from the truth. This kind of falsehood induced feelings of embarrassment and guilt. Although I tried not to care too much about what others thought of my decisions, this wasn’t an easy feat! Even when I chose to drink, there was still that lingering pressure of having to reach a certain level of drunkenness in order for it to be classed as a ‘good night’. I would have much rather stopped at a level where I was still able to enjoy myself, however, I was constantly pressurised to think that this wasn’t the ‘normal’ way to behave as a student.

Feeling isolated…
On nights when I decided not to go out and drink, I felt as though I was confined to the boundaries of my room. On one hand, staying in helped to avoid awkward conversations about why I didn’t want to go out to drink, like everyone else was doing. On the other hand, staying in out of fear of looking ‘uncool’ made me feel isolated and alone at times, when all I really wanted was to be surrounded by supportive friends.

My experiences with alcohol at University today… 
Now that I have a number of secure friendships, I feel as though I am completely content to drink when I like, but also not drink at other times, without having to feel ashamed or ridiculed by those around me. I am now able to happily join in with social events that are alcohol-based and still stay true to myself, rather than having to miss out due to the worries of not conforming to the student drinking stereotype.

Eliminating the peer pressure culture around alcohol… 
Despite now being in this comfortable position, I wish I hadn’t had to go through those feelings of guilt and embarrassment, just because I was following what I was comfortable with, during my First Year. I feel as though more could be done in order to eliminate the stigma around drinking at University, especially during people’s First Year. I know countless people who have been reluctant to join sports teams, too fearful of being pressured into drinking – which is a real shame! Treating people the same, regardless of whether they choose to drink alcohol or not, will hopefully be a step towards changing the University drinking culture. 

For more information on finding support, click here. Find out more about managing alcohol at university on page 32 of Student Minds' Transition guide. 

I am a Second Year Psychology student, who is passionate about the promotion of positive mental health and am keen to be able to make a positive impact on people who are experiencing mental health difficulties. I think being able to share my own personal experiences through a platform like Student Minds, allows others to realise they are not alone - which is so important to me.

Hangover Habits from the Bubble of University

Ross writes about the mentally unhealthy drinking culture at university and how it can cause problems after graduation. 

- Ross Carver-Carter

In allowing problematic drinking behaviours to go unchallenged at university, we do a disservice to young adults. 

University is in many respects a bubble with its own established norms, culture and structure; something I have clearly seen in that we are so drastically expected to undo many of our student habits upon graduating. In particular, student drinking - at least in my experience - is largely normalised in a student environment and tolerated by those outside of it as a natural, if not desirable, part of the higher education experience. At times, however, it can seem as though no amount of drinking is ever labelled ‘problematic’ when it occurs in the student landscape. 

Drinking at university is often justified as being merely part and parcel of sport’s societies or harmless respite from the stresses of study. For many I imagine it will remain harmless and entirely in their control, but my concern is that these norms can create a dangerous environment where unhealthy drinking habits are formed without being questioned. From my own experience at university, there are regularly events involving alcohol, and often many are willing to get involved once prompted. It’s easy for students to deceive themselves about their own drinking habits in this environment, and to believe it is the social events that lead them to drink and not that they need drink to feel comfortable socialising. Those that want to go out often are laughed off as ‘keen’, but are never thought of as having a dependency or a problem which could be a cause or effect of mental health difficulties. 

In short, it is easy for unhealthy drinking habits to go under the radar whilst in full time higher education, or to blend in with the pervasive wider drinking cultures that thrive. These behaviours only seem to become a concern if they continue after one leaves university and goes into employment. This arises out of a tacit acceptance among many students that for three years you will perhaps drink or smoke excessively without consequence, but that it will not extend beyond your university days. This may sound reasonable enough, but it doesn’t always translate so neatly in reality. Subtle habits, such as drinking to cope with deadline stresses, can ingrain themselves into student behaviours and carry over beyond university into the workplace. Furthermore, students who suffer with mental health issues are at a higher risk for problem drinking, and may turn to alcohol to self-medicate. These behaviour patterns, once established, risk becoming long-term problems. I have known some individuals, once they have started working, to normalise drinking alcohol after work during the week, alone. They drank as a student, so why not now? Though the behaviour hasn’t changed, the perception of it has; It can sometimes take the ‘real world’ to shine a light on problem drinking. 

This attitude is all muddled up; both students and universities should halt these unhealthy drinking habits in the process of developing, instead of intervening once they are well established. This could start by challenging the idea that university is an opportunity for regular binge drinking without responsibilities or consequences. In summary, this is a call to be more aware of problem drinking amongst our peers, especially if we witness a pattern of drinking to cope with stress or anxiety. Offer a listening ear and share alternative ways of coping or socialising. University is unique and will differ from life afterwards, but it should never be allowed to become a breeding ground for alcohol dependency. 

For information on finding support with alcohol misuse, visit pg. 32 of Student Minds' Transitions guide. 

I am a Politics and IR graduate navigating the graduate world, one step at a time. You can find my thoughts- big and small at www.thoughthoard.co.uk 

Navigating My Tricky Relationship with Alcohol

Annie talks about her difficult relationship with alcohol and how she’s beginning to recover.

- Annie Bocock

Alcohol. Booze. Tipple. Bevvies. It has always been a little bit of a problem for me. Drinking encouraged me to be uncomfortably fearless and boisterous. I’d drink very small amounts, which would lead to me being loud for attention in a desperate plea to have my close friends like me more. I only made them worry and I don’t think that’s ever truly gone away. This became apparent to me when I started university. In Freshers Week I immediately found myself out of my comfort zone, so I drank, especially when I struggled to talk at parties, or on nights out. I did it to calm down, to numb all of the anxiety I was feeling, but it didn’t work. I would have panic attacks and would experience dangerous rushes of negative emotion which only isolated me further. 

After a year of struggling to fit I was extremely relieved to start making friends during my second year. This came with a lot of delayed drinking and nights out. It was fun but my only regret is that I sometimes found myself unable to stop drinking once I had started, which had negative consequences. My change in behaviour came after two specific events: 

• One night I broke my front tooth after losing control of myself. Luckily my friends were there to swiftly take me home and look after me but when the morning came, I was distraught.  
• The second, and more frightening experience, was when I woke up at 6am, after blacking out, on a bus with none of my belongings and a severely sprained ankle. I was extremely lucky to retrieve pretty much everything, but it was still the biggest wake-up call to change my behaviour, despite what may have happened that night. 

Ever since those two instances I’ve tried my best to really look after myself when I’m drinking and despite the occasional slip-up it’s gone smoothly! 

For students, or anyone, who thinks they may be in a similar situation, I can only offer my own advice on what has worked for me. Everyone is different so I urge you to access services (your GP, university counsellors, etc.) if you think you need help. But regardless here are some things that helped me in my path to recovery: 

• Don’t feel like you have to drink to be more social! For me, it became a habit or a dependency when I was particularly nervous about socialising, but it didn’t work.
• If you want to drink, do it for the right reasons and in moderation. I now drink primarily for the taste and mostly socially.
• If you do want to get drunk, space it out. I’ll now set a time limit of around half an hour or more before I buy a new drink after finishing my old one, which may be normal for most people, but it really helped me since I was someone who’d rush straight off to get another.
• Carry a set amount of cash with you. You may be less inclined to drink in excess, and therefore also to spend less.
• Have set amounts of time where you don’t drink, if you want to! You don’t necessarily have to quit but you can certainly take prolonged breaks. 

I think it can be hard for young people, especially if they’re vulnerable, to have a healthy relationship with alcohol. I’ve never been an alcoholic, but I have had a hard relationship with it and it leaves me in the middle.

For more information on finding support, click here. Find out more about managing alcohol at university on page 32 of Student Minds' Transition guide. 

Hi! I’m Annie Bocock and I’m an alumni of the University of York. As a Press Ambassador for Student Minds, I enjoy writing and speaking about my own experiences of mental health and the general complexities of mental health. It’s so rewarding seeing how others can gain something from my experiences.

Substance Abuse: My Recovery

Carys writes about her experience of recovering from substance abuse and the effect on her mental health. 

- Carys

**Trigger Warning: This blog discusses substance abuse and self-harm**.

I started drinking when I was 16. My parents have always been quite strict with me drinking alcohol underage, and not drinking themselves meant I didn’t really have anyone to learn from. I drank alcohol ‘normally’ through sixth form and first term at university. However, a depressive episode in term two of my first year resulted in me abusing alcohol to such an extent that I was completely out of control of my actions; I have no memory of the times I spent intoxicated, and was often ending up in vulnerable situations. I believed that alcohol made me so happy, confident and relaxed, but it is also a depressant. When the university welfare team got involved, I was overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and shame about my inability to control my drinking. I began to isolate myself, and whenever I found myself in an environment with alcohol I was in absolute panic and distress, whether I was drunk or not. I avoided alcohol and drunk situations, as a way of dealing with my issues. 

In my second year at university I was prescribed sleeping tablets by my GP to help with insomnia, but I would overuse them. I finally got referred to a drug and alcohol recovery service by the university counselling service. I was a bit sceptical at first that it wouldn’t be useful as I ‘was over that now’ and felt reluctant to trust support services. However my counsellor was incredible and reassured me about the confidentiality of the service; it was completely separate to the university and neither the university nor the university counselling service had access to my notes, whilst they could only be shared with doctors or police in situations of immediate risk to myself or others. I was also told I could contact my counsellor at the service by phone any time I wanted to.

The first meeting was very difficult. I had to answer so many questions and became quite overwhelmed and distressed. However, as much as I thought I’d gotten through my substance abuse, the emotional damage was still on my mind every day. Of course my recovery wasn’t all that easy; I felt worse to begin with and the loss of one coping mechanism led to the replacement with another (I would hurt myself in different ways rather than resolving distress with alcohol). But, week by week, my counsellor taught me how to control my alcohol levels, learning about alcohol units, and planning my nights in advance to prevent any vulnerable situations. I had to log every substance and every alcoholic drink for months; I knew that if I wasn’t honest I wouldn’t get the help I need. Anything I struggled to say I could write it down.

It did wonders for my second year at university having someone I trusted to talk to each week, and learning how to drink normally again so I could once again enjoy parties and the rest of my student life. The emotional support also meant I made enough progress with recovery to study abroad during my third year after having been initially told I was ‘too high-risk’ to go. Even though I am now discharged from the service, I know I can still ring up anytime I want to speak to my counsellor and can get more sessions if necessary.

Now, I am happy to say that I have recovered from this, despite wishing that I had got this support much earlier on. I still find alcohol and places like bars triggering, but it is no longer stopping me from enjoying my nights out. Since my sessions I am able to put in place strategies to keep me safe, and I have the best housemates and course friends to look out for me when necessary. It doesn’t mean that I no longer enjoy drinking and partying, but it has changed my perception on student drinking culture and given me the confidence in myself to say ‘no’ if I don’t feel up for going out drinking. 

For more information and advice about dealing with substance abuse, visit Talk to Frank or find out more on page 32 of Student Minds' Transitions guide.

Carys studies MA Interpreting and Translating at the University of Bath and is the Deputy Editor for the Student Minds Blog. She is dedicated to helping students access any health and additional support they need to succeed at university. 

#FresherPressure: Alcohol and Making Friends

Hannah writes about the social pressure to drink alcohol during Freshers week, and the importance of moderation.  

- Hannah Barham

Going away to University for me meant moving from a village to a city. I went from living in a village with my parents and siblings with a few family-friendly pubs and one bar to living in The City, London, with eight other flatmates and more bars and nightclubs than one could count. Sure, I had had a couple of drinks here and there at social gatherings but never enough to get more than tipsy. My mum had experienced first-hand the effect that alcoholism could have on a family, so alcohol never played a huge part during my teenage years.

This meant that University was the first time that I properly experienced the effects that alcohol can have, from social embarrassment to the worst hangover that I have ever experienced. My experience of Fresher’s week felt like a constant cycle where I was either hungover or drunk, dancing at a different nightclub every night. Whilst there was never any physical or verbal pressure, it felt like there still was an expectation to get drunk every night and attend the Fresher-specific event that was being hosted that evening. Since everyone attended these events, it felt like the best way to get to know your flatmates and other students. Even after Fresher’s week was over, there were still events held every Wednesday evening and weekend that people expected you to attend.

Looking back, there were several moments that I should have realised were signs that the pressure was getting too much for me, but admitting that felt like admitting that I could not handle University and living away from my parents. It felt like everyone else around me could perfectly balance their University work and social life. I felt that by stopping drinking and not going to nightclubs every weekend, I would lose my newfound friends.

At this time, my mental health was the worst it had ever been. I have always been high functioning alongside my anxiety and depression which meant that I was still able to attend lectures and go food shopping as necessary, but I found myself staying in my bed, sleeping more and more often. Drinking alcohol seemed like the only way to alleviate the symptoms of my mental illness, but, in many ways, actually exacerbated them. These moments certainly did not feel like those of the best years of my life.

It took time away from the University environment, where alcohol was not so readily available and there was no pressure to attend events every weekend, for me to realise that the environment that I had put myself into at University was not the best environment for me. Whilst it felt that way whilst staying in student halls, the University experience was not all about getting drunk every weekend. This is the type of University experience that works for some people but not for me; I wanted an experience that did not solely revolve around alcohol and nightclubs and it was only in my second and third years of University that I felt like I found people of a similar mindset to me.

Fresher’s week is not for everyone and that is okay. I am sure that there were events being held by the University during Fresher’s week that did not revolve around alcohol and I wish I would have attended some of these instead of spending my days hungover in bed. I am someone who is hugely influenced by those around me and perhaps by meeting people of a similar mindset earlier, I would not have felt such pressure to consume large volumes of alcohol on a regular basis and experience both anxiety and depression as strongly as I did. I am not saying that consuming alcohol is always a bad thing, but for me, alcohol intensified my mental health symptoms and I am happier consuming it in smaller volumes, if at all.

For more information and advice on starting university here.

My name is Hannah and I graduated from University in 2018. I have my own blog: justhannahhere.blog where I blog about mental health, travel and my life.

#FresherPressure: How to survive an alcohol free freshers

Student Minds took to social media to see how non-drinking students managed starting university without taking part in alcohol-fuelled activities.

If you’re heading off to university as a non-drinker, you may feel a little apprehensive as talk of drunken nights out goes around. Will you feel excluded? Will you feel pressured? 

Here are the top 5 tips from students who have been through the process of starting university, meeting new people and throwing themselves into all things freshers - but without drinking alcohol. A sober freshers isn’t just possible, but can be enjoyable too!

Get involved in other ways

Universities are increasingly catering to a variety of student preferences - one of which is the creation of a host of freshers events that have nothing to do with alcohol. These alternative events can be a great way to meet like-minded people while doing something fun.

Don’t be put off by ‘drinking events’

Club nights, house parties and other events that often seem to centre around drinking are not as exclusive as they may seem. If you still want to go to these things, it is okay to do so without consuming alcohol.

Be yourself

When you’re trying to make a good impression on a bunch of new people it can sometimes feel easier to go with the flow of what everyone else is doing instead of resisting that pressure. Remember that who you are and the personal decisions you make are good enough and people will like you for who you are - regardless of whether you drink or not.

Tell people

From the promotion of Freshers’ Weeks to the mainstream media coverage of university life, it can seem like everyone is regularly downing pints in the nearest bar. Although this is true for some students, once you get to university you will realise how many people do not take part in this culture.

It can seem intimidating to let people know at first, especially when it seems like every other fresher is doing shots every night of the week. But people who genuinely want to be friends with you will respect your choice and make things easier for you to get involved in other ways.

Don’t believe the hype

From the promotion of Freshers’ Weeks to the mainstream media coverage of university life, it can seem like everyone is regularly downing pints in the nearest bar. Although this is true for some students, once you get to university you will realise how many people do not take part in this culture.

Is drinking a #FresherPressure you’ve faced at university? Read more about student’s experiences here. Alys has produced content as the Communications Intern at Student Minds, passionate to share student voices in creative and engaging ways. She is going into her second year studying Sociology and sporadically writes about mental health over at www.alysjournals.com.

Doing University Teetotal

Becky writes about ways of approaching University life alcohol free.

- Becky Reed

University years are often positioned as a time to get blind drunk several times a week and wake up not knowing what on earth happened the night before. For some people that's great, but for some of us, drinking at university is a no-go, whether that is for cultural reasons, personal preference, or because of medical reasons. This, especially when starting uni, can be quite daunting. 

Two months before starting university I was prescribed anti-depressants that would be dangerous to consume alcohol with. If I had not been moving to university in a couple of months, being forced to become teetotal would not have been a problem. I had never been a big drinker - I just liked to have a drink now and again with friends (sometimes to make me more confident). But, because of the drinking culture that surrounds university, I became very anxious about not being able to drink. I thought I would be the only one at uni that didn't drink. I thought everyone would think I was boring, and therefore that I would not make any friends. 

I spoke about my worries with my therapist, parents, and close friends. This was really helpful, but I cannot pretend that their advice took all the anxiety away. It did, though, help me come up with a bit of a plan of how to approach the subject with my new flat mates and friends at university.

I was adamant that I did not want them to know I had a mental illness. At this point, I hadn't come to terms with my diagnosis and was crippled (wrongly) by embarrassment, shame and guilt. Therefore, I came up with these options. Please have a think about which one would work best for you, should you find yourself in a similar situation. 

1. Tell them you are on medication (even if you're not). This was the option I went with. Partly because it was true, but also because I didn't believe anyone would argue with this. I told them I was on medication because I had become physically ill over the summer (this was actually true, but this wasn't the medication that stopped me drinking). From my experience, people respect this, and the majority of the time they tend not to ask any more questions.

2. Tell them you are on antibiotics. This is similar to the above, however, just be aware you can probably only keep this one up for a couple of weeks.

3. Tell them you don't like it. This is a perfectly reasonable option to go with. There is nothing wrong with not enjoying it. Hopefully people will respect this, but some may try and encourage you more than you may like. 

4. Always get your own drink. You could pretend you have put an alcoholic beverage into your soft drink.

5. Always volunteer to be the designated driver: Obviously, this will only work if you have a car and actually need transport to get to wherever you're going.

6. Tell them the truth. This is daunting I know. I couldn't even begin to contemplate this option - I didn't know how people I had only just met would react. This said, you have nothing to be ashamed of, and if people react negatively, this shows more about them than it does about you. 

Ok, so you have told your new university friends that you are teetotal. Now the next challenge… how do you enjoy university to the same extent as everyone else? It is 100% possible, I promise.

1. Get involved with activities that don't involve drinking. For example, join a society so you can meet like-minded people.

2. Encourage your new friends to meet up for a meal. A lot of emphasis can be put on going out at uni, but by organising a daytime activity it can be an ideal way to catch up with friends without feeling guilty for not drinking.

3. Don't be afraid to go on nights out sober. Ok, so the likelihood is that the majority of students will drink, but, this does not mean you can't still have fun with them. The thought of socialising can be terrifying at the best of times, and you may wish you could just have a drink to help you relax. I would just say to try this a few times. See how it makes you feel. Maybe discuss it with someone you meet at uni and get on with.

4. Don't be afraid to say no. Know your limits and what keeps you healthy. If you don't want to go out… don't. If you don't want to drink… don't. You could tell the truth, or make up an excuse. Have a think about what works for you.  Please at no point feel pressure. If they are your true friends, they will understand.

Whenever you're worried that you should be drinking for whatever reason, just remember you're not going to wake up with a stinking hangover in the morning!


Hey, I’m Becky. I’m a final year student studying Sport and Social Sciences at the University of Bath. I have been living with generalised anxiety for a number of years, and have, more recently, suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and episodes of severe depression. I wanted to write for Student Minds to show there’s light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how dark it seems.'

Student Drinking Culture

After months of binge drinking at University, and eventually finding out the hard way that alcohol is not good for her mind. Erin made the sensible decision to stop drinking. Despite being keen to “fit in” and not be perceived as boring, she put aside society’s judgements and focused on making her mind as healthy as it could be.

-Erin  Cadden 

I have never had to contemplate my relationship with alcohol. Drinking was always something I did socially, I didn’t abuse the substance so I couldn’t have had an issue with it, or so I thought. What I have come to realise, is that alcohol can be self-destroying and a depressant in itself. Mixing my complicated and frazzled mind with alcohol is not healthy. I would never participate in any activities that I knew would add additional pressure to my mental illness, so, why did I continue to drink? knowing the negative consequences?

I thought I was sensible when it came to alcohol. Yes, sometimes I drank a little too much, but doesn’t everyone at university? I thought this was normal… Everyone just seemed to be in a constant cycle of being drunk then hung-over and then drunk again. Due to this, I never considered stopping drinking. I was a student, for me, this meant I had to drink to fit in. Only now, at 3 months sober, I realise how wrong I was.

People drink to be social, I drank for different reasons. When I drank, it was to numb myself...to numb my mind. It was to stop my thoughts from constantly ticking over. All too often my social anxiety would get the better of me, especially when socialising in big groups. The only way I thought I could overcome this, was to drink. Don’t get me wrong, there were times where I drank to enjoy myself with my friends. However, most of the time I drank, it was to try to rid myself of the pain in my mind. I was so desperate to not be the “odd one out” that I drank to give myself, what I thought was, more confidence. Really, all I wanted to do was stay in bed and never leave.

A few drinks later and I would notice my thoughts hadn’t gone quite, hadn’t slowed down like wanted them to. The reality was quite the opposite. My thoughts would gain momentum, accelerated to a speed that was uncontrollable. I would be socialising, having fun, meanwhile, my mind would be constantly telling me things I did not want to hear. So I continued to drink, it was the only remedy I knew. I’d drink until I no longer heard the racing thoughts. I’d drink until the thoughts had drowned in the vodka I had consumed. At this point, I would be in a state, where I simply could not handle myself.

Frightening, isn’t it? I was putting myself in this a state, to try to save myself, from myself. I was so concerned with being judged by my peers that I thought drinking was the best way to be accepted socially. I would have far rather drank myself silly and endured thoughts that made me hate myself than accept who I am. Until I realised, alcohol isn’t good for me or my mind.

It’s hard sometimes, to refuse a drink when I am out with friends. However, I can feel my mind getting healthier every day and I will not let one drink of alcohol put that in jeopardy. I find the hardest part of being sober is not turning down a drink. It’s admitting to people that I don’t drink. 

The looks, the surprise, the questions, I receive from people when I order my virgin cocktail or non-alcoholic beer is, embarrassing. It makes me feel belittled and awkward. I am confident that I do not need to drink to have fun. So why do others question my ability to be social, without having a drink?

Why do my peers find it so peculiar that I don’t drink alcohol? Ask yourself, would your reaction in a situation like this be much different? It can be so unintentional. To be honest, these responses come mostly from my friends and other people I regularly socialise with. 

So, if there is anything you can take from this post, it’s to be less judgemental. If you come across someone who doesn’t drink alcohol, be it myself, or anyone else, think before you respond. Remember that not everyone drinks alcohol to be fun and drinking alcohol is not a positive experience for everyone.

I am happy and comfortable with myself. I know I don’t need any substances to enjoy a night out. If anything, I’m having more fun without alcohol than I ever had before!

 

Hi, my name is Erin, I am currently in my final year studying Design Management at UAL in London. I shave suffered from my mental health from the age of 10 years old. My diagnoses are still ongoing but suspected off; Depression, Anxiety, Autism, Bipolar and Borderline personality disorder. I began writing for Student Minds in order to share my own experiences of my journey with mental health. The aim is to increase awareness and to decrease the stigma attached to mental illnesses as a whole.

Coping with Clubbing Anxiety

Tamsin talks us through the often complicated relationship between clubbing and anxiety, and typically unrealistic expectations of a 'good night'.

- Tamsin McLeod

Fresher’s t-shirt packaged in tissue paper and overpriced yet apparently necessary textbooks in hand: I am identical to thousands of other ‘fresh meat’ on this foreign university campus. A campus I barely remember from the open day and now call home.

As a fresher, it’s deemed undeniably important to go into the negative numbers of your student loan to buy five jaeger bombs, followed by the sugar coma that are VKs for a new bolt record on a Wednesday night. Clubbing is necessary whilst deadlines are not, at least according to the guidelines of how to have the best first year at university. For many people, first year doesn’t count so obviously, us ‘freshers’ must be partying like there’s no tomorrow. Cheesy tunes, drunk texting and a non-existent sleeping pattern all in the name of a good night out. Napping and coffee replacing home-cooked meals and curfew in tribute to going out minimally twice a week.

This was the most anticipated aspect of being a first-year student and all I heard about in the time leading up to starting university. It was daunting and exciting at the same time. It created unrealistically high and idealised expectations of Freshers’ Week as I ran a hundred different scenarios in my head. My social anxiety was having a field day due to all these unknown possibilities of an alcohol fuelled first week of university continuing throughout the year. Except, that’s not now first year truly has to remain.

It is a lie to state that clubbing is a fresher obligation. Not every night has to be lived like it’s your last and you’re at one of Gatsby’s decadent parties, griming to some obscured remix.  For many struggling with anxiety, the idea of clubbing is more daunting than exciting. This feeling of obligation to enjoy such occasions as a fresher only amplifies the anxiety as explaining why you’re turning down yet another night out seems too complex to explain.

For me the idea of not being completely in control due to consuming alcohol terrified me. What if I lost my housemates? What if I lost my phone or ID? What if I fell over onto the sticky floor? What if I looked stupid dancing? What if I am being too clingy? I mean I did attach myself to my housemate’s arm every night we went out. What if people expected me to drink more and drink every drink in the fastest possible time? Every thought about a night out started with ‘what if’ and ended negatively. This alongside the claustrophobic and rowdy queues did not fill my five-foot-nothing self with excitement, like it somehow did with everyone else on a night out.

Nights in are perfectly acceptable, but to be honest we all secretly miss going to bed at 11pm instead of missing half the day to get more than five hours sleep and avoid a hangover. Some of my best nights at university so far have been popcorn and pyjama orientated with my new housemates and friends.

If you prefer to stay in and anyone tells you, you’re ‘boring’ or ‘uncool’, don’t listen to them. It’s okay to stay in sometimes and it’s okay if social anxiety becomes too much some nights. And when these nights do happen, curl up with your favourite movie and a hot chocolate. Do not deny your feelings, or put them down. They are valid and so are you. Night in or nights out can both be good.

However, if your anxiety is at a place where it can be managed (which is a possibility for everyone, even if you don’t believe it now) I have also discovered the joys of clubbing on anxiety free days. The joys coming from putting some glittery eye shadow on and a cute outfit, dancing and singing at the top of your lungs. Going a little crazy with friends on the dance floor can lead to some of the best photos of uni – but so can the nights in were you all cook dinner together and chat about home. 

All in all it’s what you feel most comfortable doing and most comfortable with, and don’t let anyone pressure you into an anxious situation you can’t control and they don’t understand.

Why It's OK To Not Go Clubbing At Uni

Worrying about the pressure to go out at uni? You should just focus on doing what you enjoy, says Ruby.

- Ruby Ellis

We know all too well that university brings with it a lot of pressures, such as homesickness, independent learning, and of course a sudden increase in workload. But there was one that I wasn’t really expecting and the one that hit me the hardest: the pressure to go out.

Having struggled with anxiety in the past, clubs are one place that I find it difficult to cope. One of my symptoms before a panic attack is that my senses get really heightened. Loud music, flashing lights and being pressed up against random strangers can make it an intense and frightening experience that for me is sure to set off feelings of nausea and hyperventilation. The answer to this seems obvious: why don’t you just not go clubbing? And why do I still find myself going out every so often, knowing I will hate it and usually ending up walking back in the dark alone because I panicked in the club and had to run out as fast as I could?

I don’t mind drinking. In fact, I really enjoy a glass of wine after a long day. But excessive drinking, the feeling of not being in control and of course the hangover the next day is not my idea of fun. Yet drinking and going out is so deeply ingrained into university culture I felt like I had to force myself to go out. Freshers’ week was awful for me. I started off almost enjoying myself, but was so physically and mentally exhausted by the end of each night from trying to control my symptoms that by the end of the week I couldn’t cope anymore and was an anxious, homesick mess. I felt like a failure because I hadn’t gone out and met loads of new people, which is what I was told Freshers’ was all about. I felt like I had missed the prime opportunity to make friends and I had essentially failed. I thought I was the odd one out and was never going to make any meaningful friendships. I also thought that everyone was going to think I was the boring girl who never went out.

Thankfully, the reality couldn’t be any further from that. Through my course and other activities, I have met loads of people who I don’t have to go out to bond with. Sure, some of them do enjoy clubbing but I’m under no obligation to join them, and we can hang out in other ways like film nights and going out for food instead. And even those who were out every night at Freshers’ have revealed to me that they don’t think clubbing is all that, and they were just faced with the same pressure to go out as I was. You may come across the odd person who thinks that you are “boring” if you don’t go out, but you must ask yourself, are they really all that fun if the only way they can enjoy themselves is by drinking themselves into oblivion?

Clubbing is a big part of university culture, there’s no denying it. But the great thing that I have learned is that it is not the only part of it. You will meet people from all over the country and even the world who have different interests, and there are so many opportunities available to you. Now is the time to learn a new skill, pick up a new sport or hobby and explore your interests. I started to learn yoga, which is now my go-to if I’m feeling low; it makes me feel amazing. Most importantly, you are here to get a degree, to learn and to grow as a person. If you are feeling isolated because you don’t enjoy going out, just know you are not alone and there are people who feel the exact same as you, but they are just not speaking out about it; but most importantly that does not make you any less of a person than anyone else. Embrace it and start filling your time with things you truly enjoy.