University: The Best and Worst Time of Your Life

Xaviera (Vee) describes their university experiences as a student from many marginalised backgrounds and gives advice to any students who need it.

- Xavieria

When I first came to university, my focus was on studying only. I care a lot about my academics and plan to stay in education as a researcher at some point. I spent my first year alone and isolated. I lived in a self contained studio, away from a lot of people, because of my Autism. I didn’t do too well mentally and physically, although I achieved an okay grade at the end of the year (considering my mental health issues), at least I tried my best. 

This blog is not a reflection of my first year however, it is a discussion of how my second year changed drastically. 

Since moving to my university, I felt very isolated due to my race. I was a black student on a course with nearly 400 students. However, every time I went to lectures, I would see maybe 10 black students amidst the crowds. I felt unwelcome from the very beginning. 

Flash forward to second year. This year, I wanted to ensure that I did better than my first year in grades, and I made sure to attend every lecture possible. This lasted for about 3 weeks. The course content (13 hours per week) was too overwhelming. Because of my ADHD, Irlen’s and Dyslexia, I didn’t understand a word that was said in lectures. In addition, I was taking on so many extracurriculars that I ended up becoming physically weaker. My brain thinks too fast, and my IQ is too high for my own good. I kept up with things mentally, but physically my body started shutting down. I can no longer walk long distances without mobility aids, and due to the environmental stresses faced at my university, I had to withdraw from my studies. 

I hope to return to a different university next September, but my advice to you is this: take it easy.  Sometimes you need to practice self discipline in order to succeed in life, and spending all your time trying to be a “typical” student may not be the way to do that. I learn better when I self-study, but I told myself that I had to attend all lectures if I wanted to gain the most out of my degree. I burned myself out to the point where my mental disorders simply worsened. Once I was at a point where I was physically and mentally unfit to do anything, my university turned their back on me, and I nearly gave up. I have so many needs and difficulties, but learning about how to cope with everything and how to manage these things is crucial. 

I may be going through a rough patch now, but if you put the work in, sometimes things will get better. Not always, but logically speaking, you cannot determine that things will never get better, so giving up straight away is not the answer. 

Get the help you need, and try to remember: you deserve a break sometimes. University is not a time constrained education, you can take years to do a bachelor’s, or a masters, but do it in your own time, not anyone else’s.

I hope to make some positive changes, especially with equality, diversity and inclusion across the UK. My experiences have told me that universities may try to incorporate EDI, but not because they listen to student voices, but because they feel they have to. I’m gay, transgender, black, disabled, and assigned female at birth. There are students facing anti-Semitism, students being stigmatised for their mental health issues, and many other students facing all sorts of low-level discrimination. 

I want to change that. Writing this blog is the first step. Gathering statistical data and conducting my own research is next. One day, I hope to make universities across England better at being more diverse, not just to a couple of marginalised groups, but to everyone. Because that is what equality, diversity and inclusion is truly about.

Whether you are looking for support for your own mental health at university or supporting a friend, help is available.  

Hi, my name is Xaviera but most people call me Vee! I'm 19, and wanted to enjoy university so badly, but found it difficult due to my disabilities and the internal racism I felt during my studies. I'm sharing my story so others who feel the same can hopefully feel less alone. I like to make productive changes, and the education system is a good place to start, especially from students themselves.

How a diagnosis of Autism aided my mental health

Oscar shares how learning that he’s autistic has impacted on his mental health recovery.

- Oscar Sharples

I started experiencing symptoms of depression around age 11, and for the next eight years, my life was consumed by the difficulties that these diagnoses presented as I grew through my teenage years.  

But the journey to another diagnosis also made a huge difference: learning that I am autistic has been one of the most transformative things in my mental health recovery.

Before this revelation, I collected a long list of other diagnoses that never fully explained what was happening to me. The diagnoses described my symptoms, and I started on medications that have drastically improved my life, but I was always left asking “Why?”. No one could give me any answers as to why I had amassed these disorders, and these diagnoses still didn’t explain a large part of what I was struggling with. I never fully understood what I was going through, I was never able to find a community to relate to, and it felt like every treatment I tried didn’t work the way it was supposed to.   

Then, in a lockdown-motivated deep-dive into researching autism, I found some answers. I finally found an explanation that linked together all the disparate diagnoses and hardships. I was already familiar with autism, and this wasn’t the first time someone had considered that I was autistic. But it was the first time I truly considered it myself and appreciated how being undiagnosed for so long had impacted my mental health. It became clear that years of not understanding how my brain had developed differently was the root of a lot of the struggles I had been experiencing. The overwhelm and fatigue, mutism, anxiety, issues with relationships, and all the maladaptive ways I had learned to cope, finally made sense. Not only that, but I finally had a community of people that I could relate to, and a long list of ways to cope that were actually designed for brains like mine. 

Discussions of mental health recovery are often focused on mindfulness, exercise, and reaching out to friends and family. And for many people that genuinely works! But as someone in the depths of autistic burnout, these didn’t work for me. I was plagued by such deep hopelessness as it felt like everything that should have helped only made my symptoms worse. 

My autism diagnosis gave me a new direction to take. I started taking care of my sensory needs, investing in special interests, and giving myself strict routines. I started forgiving myself for those traits that I had tried so hard to remove from myself only to find that they were just autism and a part of who I am. I was only able to benefit from medication, therapy, and relationships with others once I understood the fact that I was autistic and began to shape my life around my needs.  I was lucky enough to receive a formal autism diagnosis after around a year of knowing that I was autistic but waiting lists vary and can often take longer than this as NHS diagnostic services are overwhelmed and underfunded. By talking more about my challenges and my recent diagnoses, it ignited a cascade of my family and friends becoming aware of neurodiversity and actually being diagnosed with autism and ADHD themselves. 

But, a diagnosis doesn’t always work in our favour - certain mental health services are not equipped to provide the right support to autistic people who struggle with their mental health and are quick to deny us treatment. For these reasons, I don’t believe my diagnosis aided my recovery. It was simply a confirmation (one I was lucky to have) of knowledge that I had already integrated into my life.

I would encourage anyone who believes themselves to be neurodivergent to allow themselves to be free of expectations of what recovery looks like. It’s okay if certain coping skills, treatments, or therapies don't work for you and we are constantly growing as a society to find inclusive neurodivergent-friendly alternatives to the mainstream therapies. Whether a medical diagnosis is accessible to you right now, or not, there are options:  there is a community for you, and it’s okay if recovery looks different to how you, or others, expect.

Whether you are looking for support for your own mental health at university or supporting a friend, help is available.

My name is Oscar, I’m a second-year undergraduate studying sociology and social anthropology, as well as a youth voice advocate and campaigner. I am passionate about empowering marginalised people, specifically neurodivergent people and those diagnosed with a mental illness. I also create art in my free time! 

I was still me

Madeleine describes how it feels to go through a mental health crisis, highlighting the need to treat people in crisis as themselves, with the dignity and respect they deserve.

- Madeleine Chamberlain

I was still me

I was just so engulfed in a world of my own creation

A world where I was alone against the enemies of my own mind

An alternative reality so clear yet so confusing

A hypothetical contradiction

That was my reality

I said regrettable things

Made decisions that only made sense to my train of thought

Any onlooker would have been perplexed

A world of me lost in my own mind

But I still felt it

The fact that it was not true does not negate

The belief

The impact

The trauma

I was still me

I was just buried under the rubble of the volcano

Whether you are looking for support for your own mental health at university or supporting a friend, help is available.

Madeleine is a recent graduate from the University of York and one of the sub-editors of the blog. Having experienced episodes of psychosis due to bipolar disorder, I am passionate about sharing my story to reassure others in similar situations that they are not alone and that there is always a way forward.

What I want to say

A poem detailing a young person's silent battle with depression.

- Muskaan Admani

When someone asks how I am

I want to say

I really do feel

     Unloved

And

     Worthless

And like

     A burden

This d e p r e s s i o n

Is a ravenous parasite

Sucking out all the light

I have left

I have lost my sight.

I want to say

That my thoughts

Are incessantly pushing weight against my shoulders

And that is why I shake sometimes

I am relentlessly fighting a boxing match

That you cannot see

But my energy

Is now fleeting.

I want to say

That

     S m i l i n g

Has become a

Magic trick

But I'm probably the worst

     Magician

You know

Yet

I am a master at

     Pretending

All is fine.

I want to say

That I am

     D r o w n i n g

These walls are caving in

And I no longer know how to survive

It's like I'm trying to swim

But my hands and feet are tied.

I want to say

That this sadness

Has infected my lungs

So breathing has become an

     A b o m i n a t i o n.

I want to say

That life has torn

At the verge of my strength

I am  n u m b 

I am  e m p t y.

My grave

Is this body.

But I'd rather not ravage

Someone's mood

With my  t r a g i c  h o n e s t y

So I goof away

Like everything is a laughing matter

And I say something acceptable, like:

"I'm alright. How are you?"

Whether you are looking for support for your own mental health at university or supporting a friend, help is available. 

Hello! I am Muskaan, a Psychology Undergraduate from Queen Mary University of London. I am currently on my placement year working in a school. I am sharing my experiences through poetry - a medium that has helped me throughout my struggles of mental health, with the hope to help and inspire others.

Students, studying, and self-belief: don’t be your worst critic

When it comes to education, every decision feels like the most important one. Whilst an exciting time to explore your passions, it can also be a daunting one. In this blog, Lydia-Rose shares how student life influences mental health and discusses how you are never alone in wondering about whether your choices were the ‘right’ ones. 

- Lydia

Everyone is normally their worst critic-I was mine. Being a student is all about learning, but not just in the classroom. Though tricky to navigate at times, it's a perfect opportunity to learn about yourself and life beyond the curriculum of your course. 

Think of student life as a step ladder, starting at the bottom, undoubtedly small wobbles/big fall off in between, and eventually reaching the top as a qualified person of some sort.  Without a stable base, you’re bound to fall. It might feel like you're back to square one, starting at the bottom but - remember - you're already climbing, and you aren’t alone on your climb to success, and neither am I. 

 I don’t know about you but, as soon as you say -  ‘I am doing a degree’ the almost definite response is ‘wow, you must be clever, how amazing’.  It is always something along those lines… My response in my head was, yes amazing, but getting onto any degree is hard, the interview process of elimination, dedication, sacrifice, and the rest. Degrees can change you. You gain a lot of independence, figuring things out for yourself, which for some people can be a good way forward. However, this also comes with a whole new situation mental health-wise and can become stressful for some. This is why it is important to any degree, to stay in contact with other students and lecturers, and to stay in tune with the support you have around you. Everyone is in it together, and everyone can help each other reach the top of that ladder! You also have to remember that at times when you might struggle or feel confused, your student friends and lectures/ staff will be, because you never know if something might happen which makes your journey just a little bit smoother. 

My experiences looked a bit like this…

• Year 1: WOW, fascinated, love for every aspect of midwifery, besotted in fact, I’ve made the right choice. 
• Year 2: 1st and 2nd term, excited, feeling proud, enjoyment and thrill. Last term… Why did it suddenly feel so hard and draining? Was this normal? Emotional and fatigued, like a fog had come over me, shadowing my motivation and love for midwifery. 
• Year 3: Feeling lost, anxious, down and crying daily. Telling my parents, I don’t want to do it. I get frustrated with myself, wishing I was someone who could just run through the course without needing to stop for a break. But there are always solutions. I had a conversation with my university, who have facilitated shorter, more manageable shifts for me, and I am having regular in-person contact with a practice facilitator, to check on how I am feeling. I already feel better, and my motivation is creeping back up. I feel my voice has been listened to too. I am feeling more positive about going forward to complete my final year. 

Everything I have ever accomplished: school, college, interviews and jobs, I had succeeded without feeling like I couldn’t do it. Yet I know I can do this, but I equally feel like I can’t…. It’s a weird situation.  Truth is, I feel privileged as a student to be involved with women and families, bringing life to the world. I love it when I am there, but I won’t know if the stress and burden I feel will go away once I have a professional title, or if it is something deeper. I am fortunate to work with supportive midwives, students, and maternity staff, but I will have to work this situation out for myself. 

The fabric of my mental health experiences may meet yours, or be different, just like coping strategies will differ for everyone, but no one is immune from stress.

Here are some top tips for managing the student stress you might have experienced yourself:

• Have tenacity. 
• Try not to naturally resist changing your mindset, though it’s easier said than done when you feel in a hole. 
• Be an early adopter of change, start with small steps to feel in control. 
• Think of healing as a double helix and work on your mind and physical self. Don’t leave one behind, that’s where you start to feel lost. 
• Use the support that is offered to you!

Every step you take will have a purpose somewhere. Even when I complete my midwifery degree, the routes don't stop here! One of the things about a degree like this is that there are lots of other roles you can explore beyond graduation - just because you've done a midwifery degree, that doesn't mean you can't go on to explore other avenues with it! 

This is a good way to think about it, like a stepping stone to the next stage of your future!! Encourage yourself to see it this way, because there is never a dead end.

In the last month, I have changed my mindset, starting to get back to being the driven me I was at the start. I am doing a fundraiser for a midwifery charity, being strapped to a biplane going 135mph. I appreciate this isn’t for everyone but find something you will feel good about doing. 

I am going to continue writing blogs, and articles for different organisations, whilst using my sudden enjoyment of reading and writing, to complete my once dreaded dissertation ‘Midwives mental health, and the impact on the student….’ Writing is a really good way for reflecting, and once you get into it it is really beneficial for your mind. Also, I find it influential that by publishing blogs and journals, I can support my readers. 

Another point, there is no magic money tree, unless you are a student on a paid placement degree, it can be difficult, but there are many options for student finance to support you throughout the degree. 

Anyway, friends and family are the glue that keeps you on the course, the ground roots that keep you going and the bottom of that ladder to keep you stable. Remember, the healing power of a hug, that’s a good start. I am fortunate to have amazing support, even a partner who just holds me and lets me cry on him, a proper mess! A good cry can get emotions out.  

Positivity is infectious. Be kind to yourself and everyone around you. The typical saying of ‘anything you want in life doesn’t come easy’, may as well be the definition of a student in the dictionary…but in the end, you and I have well and truly, earned it, and no one can take that achievement away. Trust my advice as a normal girl doing a degree, with a whole melting pot of experiences and feelings about it. A stepping stone to the next part of your future is worth fighting for!

Whether you are looking for support for your own mental health at university or supporting a friend, help is available.

I am Lydia, a midwifery student from the UK, Suffolk, currently in my third and final year of training. When people told me this journey would be a roller coaster, I let it blow over my head. But after enduring this degree, I believe I was naïve to the reality of student life in an under-pressured healthcare system. A journey I have thought a lot about giving up on, a lot about how different the real deal is, and a lot of thought about what am I actually doing?

ADHD & Me

Sophie shares her personal experience of ADHD diagnosis in her twenties, mixed in with a discussion about ADHD and TikTok.

- Sophie Head

ADHD stands for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. ADHD goes undiagnosed, unspotted and unrecognised in so many women with a quite detrimental impact. This can be traumatic because women often get diagnosed with other mental health disorders where treatment may alleviate some symptoms but worsen others. The textbook patient with ADHD is an 8-year-old boy, who is incredibly distractable, rowdy and rambunctious. This behaviour becomes inconvenient for mainstream schools to deal with and so diagnosis and subsequent treatment is offered very swiftly. My experience, however, couldn’t have been more opposite. Like many neurodivergent women, my symptoms were more internalised and gendered expectations in society taught me to mask my behaviour. My symptoms have been much more on the attention deficit side of the disorder. I turn twenty-one later this year and I was only recently diagnosed with such and am still awaiting treatment. I went through high school believing that everyone’s mind was in constant chaos like mine and focus was impossible. I was convinced I was lazy and had formed bad habits. What I now know as a dopamine deficiency, I blamed my own personality and decision making on. In my teenage years, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression - I took medicine, had therapy etc.  The treatment somewhat helped, but at the end of the day, I found it impossible to focus for the amount of time needed for my degree, I felt exhausted after minor tasks, and I was struggling socially too. Something was not right.

Coming to university was a big wakeup call for me. On the one hand, I had been at school which was a structured 8-hour day with all my learning essentially being spoon-fed and printed off in nice booklets. School was much easier for me to focus on, and attendance was legally required. Whilst school was challenging, and focusing on homework was difficult, the nature of school minimised my symptoms.  On the other hand, at university I am now an independent learner needing to make my own schedule. Even worse, I started in 2020 and so libraries, cafes and in-person teaching were closed. The pandemic robbed me of routine, but highlighted core issues that needed to be addressed deep within my brain and myself as a person. I was surrounded by other Cambridge students smashing 12-hour workdays when I could barely bring myself to do 2 hours of work. And dare anyone suggest it was a lack of passion for my topic area – because when I do work, I enjoy it, but the mental barrier is so intense, it doesn’t matter how much I love my degree, I still have ADHD.

The ADHD diagnosis instilled an identity crisis in me because everything I used to think was just me being quirky was actually just undiagnosed ADHD. I couldn't tell what was me and what was the ADHD. I couldn't tell if the hobbies I'd had all the way from childhood to now were all just remnants of getting invested quickly with the dopamine and then very quickly getting bored again. Yet, even with a diagnosis, I questioned my own journey with ADHD. This was due to recent work on the legitimacy of content around ADHD on social media which investigated the quality of content on TikTok. Researchers wanted to check the accuracy and the type of content about ADHD. Researchers classified videos into three categories: misleading, useful or personal experience. Fifty-two percent of the videos were classified as misleading and twenty-one percent as useful. Researchers concluded that clinicians should be heavily aware of widespread misinformation on social media and its potential impact on healthcare. Harm can be done by posting incorrect information on social media and can even perpetuate common misconceptions and stigma of ADHD and mental health. 

Consuming content around mental health on social media may provide someone with the ability to recognise their own symptoms and seek help. Furthermore, TikTok is an app that is a quick click dopamine hit. It is so easy to swipe and watch countless videos. This app doesn’t require a huge attention span or a lot of focus and so it makes sense that it has opened conversation about ADHD. Now, the move is to encourage people to seek professional help and avoid self-diagnosis. ADHD is often forgotten about in mental health, and yet with many behavioural symptoms, it is heavily stigmatised. I did not choose to be born with a brain with a dopamine deficiency. We can work together to give airtime and destigmatise mental health. Please seek professional help if anything you read impacts you. And do not take TikToks as mental health gospel.   

We know that supporting a friend with their mental health isn’t always easy. Student Minds is here to help - read our Look After Your Mate guidance. 

Hi, I am Sophie Head a second-year Psychology (PBS) student at Uni of Cambridge. I recently saw a Cambridge Tab article about your blog and wanted to get involved. Since my diagnosis with ADHD, having previously had anxiety and depression, I felt that ADHD was excluded from the mental health conversation, even though lots of symptoms are very similar or even co-morbid. I wanted to add my angle and experience as a woman diagnosed in university but also recent ADHD controversy on TikTok.

Living With Generalised Anxiety Disorder

Molly shares her personal experience of living with generalised anxiety disorder and her tips if you are feeling the same way.

- Molly Smith

In the world we live in today, I think it is important to continue talking about mental health, especially with social media and the new pressures that come with modern life. I want to make more of an impact than ever on helping those suffering. I want to make it known that it’s okay not to be okay and there are many of us out there that struggle with our mental health daily. My hope is that by sharing my experience of living with an anxiety disorder/depression, I can help to spread awareness to those who don’t suffer from a mental health problem and help those who do. 

8 years ago, I was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder at CAMHS. Over the years I’ve seen therapist after therapist, undergone therapy, and I’m currently taking medication number two every day. I have now accepted this may be a part of my life forever. Whilst living with Generalised Anxiety Disorder, there is not only the social anxiety aspect for me. Personally, I also suffer from depression, low self-esteem, constant negative thoughts, and general overthinking. My anxiety and low mood lead to things including (but not limited to): 

• Difficulty/inability to talk or converse, communicate, and ask questions
• Difficulty making friends 
• Looking around me wherever I am due to being constantly paranoid of people judging me/talking about me or even planning to attack me 
• Not eating/drinking in public/in front of people I’m not comfortable with 
• Not being able to order food or drink etc. for myself 
• Walking in and straight back out of crowded places 
• Not walking into a place at all 
• Relying on others to do things for me such as ordering my food/drink or just needing them to be patient when it takes me 10 minutes to enter a busy place 
• Thinking everyone hates me 
• Believing that I am not capable of doing things e.g., driving, jobs, uni, making friends etc. spending days on end in my room/alone 
• Lack of independence 
• Feeling unmotivated and unable to do anything 
• Feeling lethargic and constantly tired 
• Lack of concentration 
• Burnout 
• Panic attacks 

How it's affected my day to day life

Not only do these struggles affect my daily life, but I also missed out on things that people my age enjoyed like parties and prom. At one very dark point in my life, I lived in my bedroom. I would come home from school and crawl straight into bed and just sleep. I would lock myself away and only leave when I absolutely had to. 

No motivation, and unable to see a future for myself, I would constantly switch between crying myself to sleep and being too numb to shed a tear. Dealing with these feelings constantly, made me a cynical person with the mentality that because I was hurting everyone else should too. Hating the world and everyone around me, I would push people out and make myself look unapproachable and cold. At school and at any new job, I was always known as the one that didn’t talk. This was because my anxiety also includes trouble with verbal communication. As a result of this, I was bullied for most of my school life, and it led to me having to be taken out of school for a while. Of course, this meant I was behind and constantly playing catch up with my schoolwork. Unfortunately, bullying didn’t stop in the workplace. 

During work, people presumed I was incapable of a job just because I struggled to communicate and found it extremely difficult to ask for help when I needed it. The problem is one part of anxiety is having an extreme fear of being judged and vulnerable but as I’m so quiet and visibly anxious I end up drawing more attention to myself. It’s difficult to convey to others that some of my actions/behaviour is a result of my anxiety and not my personality. This can be so frustrating as I’m desperate for people to see the real me. However, some would argue that my anxiety is my personality. I agree with this to some extent, but I believe it is only an aspect as I think of myself as having a very complex personality – strong, opinionated, and self-aware, but also vulnerable, insecure and in need of reassurance. This is difficult to accept when you just want to be the best version of yourself and are trying to figure out who you are during your teenage years. Am I quiet or am I outgoing? Self-assured or needy? I’ve finally realised that it’s possible to be all those things and it doesn’t have to be negative. It just depends on the people I’m around – if people stick around long enough for me to get comfortable, they get to see the ‘better’ me. 

Looking back and the positive outcomes

I tell myself now that it is okay to be different and my complexity makes me unique, and I know now that this is true. I have developed in ways I never thought would be possible. I have finished job number five, and although I still experienced the same as in all my other jobs, I felt better able to deal with it as I knew it wasn’t forever. Another positive is that I passed my driving test after doubting my abilities and I’m so happy that the driving lessons are over! In terms of socialising, I occasionally order my drinks (better than never, right?) and I go into shops on my own sometimes when I’m feeling courageous. Also, I am now in my final year of university, and I would never have thought a few years ago that I would have managed the full three years. It has been difficult, but I wouldn’t change it and I am so proud of myself for sticking at it. It has opened me up to new experiences and allowed me to challenge myself in new ways. 

Some days are still difficult, and I still have my days when all I want to do is just sleep and hide from the world, but those days are less now. A combination of CBT, medication and self-help such as yoga and meditation has helped me by changing my thinking and allowing me to see things more positively.  Overall, after many hard years, I can say that I am proud of myself for dealing with everything that I have had to go through. I feel as though it makes me who I am as a person today; I am now completely okay with that. Even though it may sound ridiculous, now that I’m in a better place, I’m glad that I have been through these things. It has made me a stronger, more empathetic person and gives me the chance to offer my support to others. Every day is still a struggle for me, especially in terms of social situations, but now I finally have some hope that things will continue to improve. You can be proud of yourself too. It is okay to be struggling and to ask for help. It is okay to take medication and to get therapy. And it is okay to cry. Things do get better if you allow them to. 

For further blogs about students' experiences with anxiety click here.

I am a psychology student and I struggle with my own mental health on a daily basis. Although, I have improved massively over the years with a variety of different support systems and strategies. I blog about my personal experiences on my personal blog and I would love to share it with students to help in any way that I can.

Starting Back at University During January Blues

Lily shares their experience of resuming their studies after the Christmas break and how they manage their winter low mood during this time.

- Lily Charlton

Starting back at university after the winter break was daunting. I had gotten so used to doing nothing. Getting up late, eating unhealthy foods and watching TikTok endlessly. It sounds so silly, but the thought of doing things after weeks of doing nothing, being in my own comfort zone, can actually petrify me. 

I think it’s the thought of having to interact with others and remembering that the real world does exist. The last week of the Christmas holidays was filled with the dreaded January exams – had I revised for them? No. I didn’t think this would matter because the exams were all open book (i.e. I could find the answers using google or my lecture notes). 

Now, I haven’t had the results yet, but as I sat on my bedroom floor completing these ‘easy to pass’ exams, I realised how little work I had put in - I didn’t actually know many of the answers. Normally, this would cause my mood to flatten with thoughts such as ‘I’m rubbish’ and ‘I should just give up’. I had a different perspective this time- what could I do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? I could leave university, but where would that lead me? Or, I could set myself goals- not only would this help me to apply myself at university, but I would also feel better about myself by being better as a person.  

The goals I set were: 

• I will spend less time on TikTok.
• I will work on improving my sleeping habits.
• I will go to all my university classes and lecturers.
• I want to read more books.
• I want to make more effort with my friends.
• I want to get more involved in my university to gain more skills, experience and extend my knowledge.

You see, most of these things aren’t just ‘goals’. I’ve noticed how these are steps anybody could take to improve their mental wellbeing and health in general, which will be proven to help you out the feelings of winter blues and make you feel better about yourself. 

So, if you are like me, and experiencing feeling a bit lost. Why not take a step back for a few minutes? - and think about how things are never as bad as they seem and most of the time, there are many ways to help relieve those stressed and low feelings.  

Since I set my goals, I have looked at volunteering opportunities, setting up a veggie/vegan society at my university and I am being more productive with university work. As a result, I feel better within myself - small changes help create better habits. For example, I have emailed one of my lecturers about a topic they taught the class this week. It may not sound like much, but it is the small steps that add up. Small changes every day can have a very big impact on our overall well being. I think we as humans can be very hard on ourselves and we forget that having time to relax or to think and breathe is all part of looking after our own minds and bodies, and does not make us lazy. So, go easy on yourselves and take care, Lily : )

We know that experiencing mental health difficulties at university can feel overwhelming. Explore the support that is available at your university and further.

I suffer from anxiety, psychotic depression and Borderline Personality Disorder. More importantly, I want others to know (and myself to know) that mental health does not define you. We can achieve anything, it may take extra steps, but remember - going on a longer route, we can see the beauty in things we wouldn’t see on a motorway.

4 Lies my OCD Tells Me

Alyssa-Caroline writes about her experience with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and intrusive thoughts. 

- Alyssa-Caroline Burnette

If you’re not intimately familiar with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you may know it primarily through jokes about people who really like things to be clean or organized. Maybe you’ve heard the condition parodied through such jokes as “Obsessive Coffee Disorder.” But these jokes are both offensive and inaccurate. In reality, OCD is not something to joke about and it isn’t limited to washing your hands, organizing things, or keeping everything really tidy. Although these symptoms get the most attention and the most representation in the media, OCD is actually a thought disorder that produces deeply distressing intrusive thoughts that a sufferer struggles to control. And because people often think that OCD is a synonym for “organized,” many people-- like me-- suffer silently for years before they realize that there’s a name for the cycle of horror their brains put them through. 

That’s why I believe it’s vital to write about my own experience with OCD. Because if I can clear up the misconceptions that characterize our understanding of this disorder, maybe I can help other people avoid the same suffering I’ve gone through. Identifying common intrusive thoughts is crucial because there’s a reason the “Obsessive” part comes before the “Compulsive” when you talk about OCD. That’s because OCD generates terrifying intrusive thoughts that get stuck in your brain; it’s so difficult to exorcise them from your mind that they are referred to as “obsessions.” You don’t want those thoughts to be there, but because OCD thrives on attacking the things you cherish most, it can feel almost impossible to get rid of them. The desperation to free yourself of these unwanted obsessions then generates compulsions or rituals that you perform in a desperate attempt to placate your anxiety. Unfortunately, however, this produces an impossible cycle that ensnares your mind and feeds your OCD. So, for the purposes of this blog, I want to concentrate on four specific lies that my OCD often tells me and how therapy has helped me learn to fight them.

“You did something terrible and you’ve repressed the memory.”

I like to think of OCD as a sort of circus from hell. My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder has an endless array of nightmarish star attractions that it loves to parade before me, and creating false memories is one of its favorite tricks. And it all starts with a random intrusive thought. Everyone has these freaky thoughts that appear to come from nowhere; you can probably pinpoint a specific time when you thought, “What if I just threw my keys into the lake?” or “What if I yelled, “Shut up!” at a person who’s really annoying me?” 

Of course, these aren’t things that you would actually do, so a neurotypical brain dismisses that and says, “Wow, that’s a weird thought!” But a brain with OCD fixates on that thought and says, “What if I’ve actually done that? What if I’ve really hurt someone and just repressed the memory?” The fact that I have no memory of doing something horrible is irrelevant to my OCD; it simply responds with the irrational assertion, “You did it and you just don’t remember.” 

“You’re secretly a terrible person and you’ve fooled everyone into believing you aren’t”

If your OCD can convince you that you’ve done horrible things, it doesn’t require much of a stretch to assume you’re a terrible person. And just as OCD can convince me that I have repressed memories, it also fights any effort at reassurance. When my friends and family try to tell me that I am not a terrible person, my OCD often responds with, “You are and you’re so terrible that you’ve fooled everyone around you into believing a lie.” 

“I need to know this right now.” 

Do you need to know what you were doing last Tuesday at 2:00 pm? Do you need to know it with the same urgency as a person who’s trying to establish an alibi for murder? Probably not. But my OCD often convinces me that small, meaningless details-- like something I said 11 years ago or what I was doing last week-- is vital information and I need to figure it out right now. Often, I have gotten so caught up in this lie that I have dropped everything I’m doing, made myself late, or skipped classes and meetings to solve the problem immediately. 

“I want my mum and my cats to die.” 

If you know me at all, you know that I love my mum and my four rescue cats more than anything in the world. And because I love them so much, my OCD latches onto that and convinces me that I’m secretly harboring a desire for all of them to die. (Because that makes so much sense, right!) For example, if I’ve forgotten to do a favor for my mum or if I’m a bit late in re-filling my cats’ food, my brain catastrophizes and says that I did it on purpose because I hate them and I secretly want them to die. Never mind that there is no evidence for any of this; my OCD encourages me to accept this as truth. 

These are a few of the most common lies my OCD tells me. Living with them is every bit as hellish as you might imagine. But therapeutic techniques have helped me to refute these lies and get my life back. Two of the most common coping mechanisms I use are “coping scripts,” like saying, “I don’t need to know that right now,” and “That is a neutral thought until I apply meaning to it.” These might sound like overly simple phrases but they have been a massive help to me! Because reminding myself that “I don’t need to know that right now” can help me break the obsessive cycle of chasing down meaningless information. It also helps me remember that my seemingly urgent need to know something is just a false signal from my brain and therefore something to ignore. Likewise, affirming that something is “a neutral thought until I add meaning to it” is helpful because it steers me away from the temptation to argue with my OCD. Arguing with OCD will only invite it to generate more horrible thoughts like, “But what if you did?” or “You’re lying to yourself,” so you should never argue with OCD. Instead, acknowledge the thought and allow it to come and go in a neutral state. Remind yourself that intrusive thoughts do not carry intrinsic meaning; this can help you to break the obsessive compulsive cycle and avoid believing that your horrible thoughts are true. 

To find out more about OCD and how to support someone, click here.  

Alyssa-Caroline Burnette is a PhD student at the University of Southampton and a member of the Student Minds editorial team. As someone who suffers from OCD, PTSD, and anxiety, she is passionate about using her voice to bring clarity and sunlight to misunderstood topics about mental health. 

It's Tough, But We Will Pull Through Together

Joe, UWS Sports President, shares his account of coronavirus lockdown and the transition to working from home with a history of mental health issues 

- Joe Gilfillan

My name is Joe and I'm the Sports President at Team UWS. I have an amazing platform with which I am able to reach out to many students, and I think it's important I use this opportunity to try and be positive, but also to be genuine. 

Two weeks ago we had our Annual Sports Ball, it was a fantastic occasion, we shared an amazing night in which we rewarded so many deserving individuals and groups within our community. It was months of hard work, stresses, doing what I love, working with our students and having a great time in the process. 

Then suddenly, everything had stopped. As of the following working day, there were no students. There was uncertainty. There was fear. There still is. Before long, I found myself working from home. My job revolves around students and sport, and I knew at the end of the year this would slowly round off and planning would begin for the next cycle. However, I wasn't prepared for this, none of us were. As someone who has experienced poor mental health in the past, it was tough to suddenly be thrown into a place similar to where I was years ago, a place of isolating, not going out, limiting social contact. I was scared that I would be set back in my journey, and that my recovery had been wasted. But it's okay to feel like this. I know there are a lot of people in similar situations, with their own issues, and many people going through these thoughts and feelings for the first time.

For all we have to isolate in person, it is now more important than ever that we band together, as friends and as humans. My mum always uses the saying "no man is an island", and at a time like this I feel that is very appropriate. Reach out to your friends and colleagues, check in with family in what may be new ways to what you are used to. And most importantly, reach out for support. If you are finding it hard, you certainly aren't the only person, and people understand now more than ever. 

I have been having regular contact with colleagues through video conferencing sites, to try and keep as much "normality" as possible. Using social media, even platforms such as snapchat, allow you to reach as many people as possible, even if it's only to make them smile for a second, or to let them know you are thinking of them- they haven't been forgotten. You don't know how much someone might need that. I have times where I have been isolated and low, having someone you can chat to, especially at the quiet times of the evening, even if it's just to talk nonsense, it briefly distracts me from the very harsh realities of the world.  

Routines have changed drastically, which is why it is vitally important to control the controllable. Take regular breaks from your work, watch some TV, get in an hour of exercise a day, drink plenty of water and try to eat as sensibly as possible. But also allow yourself some leeway. We are a generation centred around technology. We are using new ways to keep in touch. But also limit this in your free time if need be. It's so easy to focus on the negative at a time like this, so we need to take time away from it all as much as possible, for ourselves. No-one really knows how to get through this, all we can do is the best we can, and find our own rhythm. Stay safe, be kind to one another, we will get through this together.

For more information Student Space is here to make it easier for you to find the support you need during the coronavirus pandemic.

For more information on looking after your mental health during the COVID-19 outbreak, please visit the Student Minds webpage.  

My name is Joe, I'm the University of the West of Scotland's Sports President (Sports Sabbatical). I was asked to do a blog internally to highlight the transition for people. I decided to use this as a platform for discussing my own experiences with mental health, to highlight our vulnerabilities at this trying time. 

Coping With Mental Health Struggles At University: Accepting Help

Namwila shares her experience of coping with mental health struggles at university whilst studying law and her tips for opening up and accepting help. 

- Namwila

The prospect of university can be daunting for anyone. However, throw mental health into the mix, and everything changes entirely. As someone who has dealt with mental health issues for a while (and I mean...a while), I had felt the need to hide my experiences or keep everything to myself because (or so I thought) no one cared. BUT one of the main things that helped me was understanding that asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. 

But what if I don't feel comfortable talking to anyone? 

This is something I worried about too (for a long time), and it definitely affected my perception of my mental health - which at the time was quite negative. Personally, I didn't want to open up because I felt like I would be judged, or a burden, or that what I said would seem so ridiculous that I'd be ridiculed (I mean, how do I explain feeling the need to miss a lecture the moment I'm even 1 minute late because the thought of being late gave me panic attacks?). It was these things that were a challenge for me, but the very same things pushed me to open up.

As soon as I realised that a) I needed help and b) it was okay to ask for help, a weight was lifted off my shoulders because...I didn't have to hide anymore. I didn't have to pretend to be okay, and that was okay. If you find yourself feeling burdensome, know that a lot of the time, it really isn't the case, and it is our head fuelling all these panicked thoughts or emotions, giving rise to these assumptions. For me, it wasn't until I decided to open up that I realised: I'm not a burden. These people train all their life to do just that - help those who need help. And in understanding that your mind simply doesn't work the same way (thank you 'Mind Explained' for that) you can learn to cut yourself some slack and understand how you can work with your mind rather than against it. DISCLAIMER: I know, trust me I know, it is all easier said than done. But everything is a milestone, and even the smallest steps (talking to a friend, a tutor, or a member of student wellbeing) is a big step towards control and owning your identity. 

What if my University doesn't offer mental health support? 

Sadly, we live in an era where mental health is not yet valued in the same way as physical health. And though things are slowly shifting, there is a lot to be done on improving student mental health at a time where everything is so competitive. The best advice I can offer in this case is:

1. Contacting your GP: In doing so, not only do you receive professional care (assuming your GP is helpful), but you get offered services that you would not get otherwise (e.g. therapy, counselling etc.)

2. Selfcare-selfcare-selfcare: I say this all the time, but there's not much else to it other than valuing yourself enough to understand when your mind and your body needs help. Remember - putting yourself first is not selfish. It is you recognising your mental health is important, more so than many other things. I talked about this in a recent video, but selfcare is one of the first steps to helping yourself, since it aids you in understanding what works for you. 

3. Helplines: In the same way that one may get help at university, there are many helplines out there that offer support to those struggling with mental health. Many are 24 hours (and even offer text services for those out there who might not want to pick up the phone #ifeelyou). 

In this short post, I hope I offered some advice and guidance that can help anyone out there struggling with mental health at university. And remember - you come first. 

For more information on finding support at University, please visit the Student Minds page on 'Support for Me'. 

Hi! My name is Namwila, and I am a third-year law student at university. After having dealt with mental illness for a while and never really opening up about it, I really wanted to share my experience in case anyone out there feels alone. I also post some videos about this on my YouTube. 

Mental Health as a BAME Student

This person remembers the day they told their mother that they struggle with their mental health and shares their experience of dealing with the stigma around mental health problems. 

- Anonymous

Disclosing to my mum

It is a snap decision. Today is the day. I shiver as I pick up my mug and coffee splashes everywhere. I wipe the split coffee with a tissue and stutter an apology to my therapy group. Time drags by slowly and with every second, the anxiety stewing inside of me grows. During the break, shaking, I pick up my phone and dart outside. I wobble as I dial my mum’s phone number and wait for her to pick up. No response… I breathe a sigh of relieve—the universe has spoken, and this isn’t the right time at all. I start to head back inside… my phone rings. Mum. Crap!

—“Um, I need to tell you something mum,” I mutter.

—“What is it?” she asks.

—“Mum, I have an eating disorder. And – and – and, I am on antidepressants and I started therapy two months ago...” I blurt.

My mum asks me what an eating disorder is, and I explain. I tell her about all my secret behaviours; the compulsive exercising and restriction. She listens and tells me that antidepressants are not good; “they make people crazy”. Then she prays that I get better soon. I thank her and cut off.

…One and a half years later...

We haven’t talked about it since. However, she points out my weight gain; apparently, I should exercise more when I am at university and eat fewer fatty foods. It hurts. It almost destabilised my recovery.

I sometimes get angry at my situation. Since the age of ten, something has felt “wrong.” I spent my childhood lost in a dark place. It should have been picked up. I should have felt able to open up about my emotions. I should have had therapy. I was let down.

However, I do not blame my mother. She was born in West Africa. She was raised in abject poverty and famine. Her childhood was walking several miles to school in battered shoes; selling food at the local market and looking after her many siblings. She starved and had to make many sacrifices. Her life was hard, but she survived. On the other hand, growing up, I had food, water and shelter. I was British and “spoilt.” What did I have to complain about in comparison? What did I have to be sad about?

Fighting mental health stigma

To my mum, my struggle with mental health problems was not a “real” issue, but rather an exaggeration and attention-seeking. My parents hold stigmatising views of mental illness. They use the category “hysterical women” and describe mental illness as “possession by evil spirits and devils”. They label misbehaving children, people with learning disabilities and quite frankly, anyone who deviates from societal norms as “crazy”.

Recently, the perception of mental health is shifting among my parents’ communities. There has been more acknowledgement that mental health conditions are “real.” Research into mental health and people’s perceptions of mental health is also growing in their countries of birth. In fact, following the traumatic kidnapping of the schoolgirls by Boku Haram, some girls who escaped were given therapy. However, society as a whole is still fighting stigma related to mental health problems. Amongst some of the older generation, people with mental health problems are still labelled as “attention-seeking” and “crazy”. Such stigma creates additional barriers for me and many other young people to receive much-needed supports from their close family.

It is so difficult pretending that I am “good”, when actually, I am having panic attacks every day. It is hard being torn between the need to gain understanding from my parents and the reality of hiding my anti-depressants from my parents. I get frustrated when my parents make comments about how I am getting anxious or crying over very small things. Regardless, I try to educate my parents about mental health. I explain the pressures that young people face and that my anti-depressants actually stabilise me. I insist that struggling with my mental health does not mean I am weak. And I think, little by little, the message is sinking in.

To learn more about the individual and societal challenges facing members of BAME communities, check out this resource compiled by the Mental Health Foundation. 

Information about support for you is available on the Student Minds website.