By Vanessa Broadbent (The Cascade) – Email
See the super pretty version of this feature here: http://issuu.com/the-cascade/docs/the_cascade_vol._23_no_27
The connection between being a student and mental illness runs deeper than just the stress of university. The Globe and Mail reported that 15 per cent of university students will be diagnosed with a mental illness while they’re in university — and that only includes the students who sought treatment. The report also showed that 90 per cent of students admitted to feeling overwhelmed in the past year, and 50 per cent said that they felt completely hopeless.
To top it off, suicide is the second leading cause of death for Canadians under the age of 24, with 9.4 per cent of students having seriously considered suicide in the past year, and 1.3 per cent having attempted suicide.
But despite these numbers, students everywhere pretend that everything is okay. We come to class with our plastered on smiles and talk about how great life is, even when we know it’s not.
CTV News’ Tom Kennedy accurately addresses this issue as “the onerous and still very present mental health taboo that may make students pause before admitting a problem and seeking help.”
There is no foolproof guide to overcoming mental illness. But as students ourselves who recognize and experience the challenges of depression and mental illness, we know how helpful it can be to have good company, and work together to leave a dark room. So in this special safe space feature, we have gathered a handful of stories to let you know you’re not alone.
Anxiety has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Every day, I used to wake up knowing I would eventually feel sick-to-my-stomach anxious. I would have to deal with at least an hour of feeling nauseated, sweaty, and scared of what could happen … but you know what? Nothing ever did. Despite nothing ever happening, I always found a way to convince myself that the next time was the time things would go wrong.
This happened multiple times a day, and I accepted it as my life. However, one day a friend of mine noticed I was “being weird,” and for whatever reason, I spilled the beans. To be honest, this was the best decision I ever made. I used to think that talking to others about what’s wrong was so cliché, but perhaps there is truth to it. I told them how I had been feeling, and funny enough, they said they’d experienced it too. From there, I talked to more people, and found out that I wasn’t alone; and best of all, there were ways to manage what I was feeling. After talking to my doctor, I found a way to do what was best for me.
I would be lying if I said I was “cured” or anything; that’s not the way mental health works. You can’t just turn it off, and it’s always going to be there in some capacity. But talking about it and realizing you’re not alone is a good way to start feeling the way you want to feel.
It’s hard watching someone you know go through depression and not try to fix it yourself. When I found out that my best friend was struggling with clinical depression, I didn’t know what to do. Part of me felt like it was my fault. Would she still feel the same if I had tried harder to be a better friend? The other part of me thought that it was my responsibility to “fix” everything. Despite my efforts to constantly cheer her up and always be ready for her to talk to, her situation wasn’t getting any better, and the stress of a failed long-term relationship and flunking out of college certainly didn’t help.
When she told me that she wanted to move, I felt crushed. This wasn’t just a move to the next town over, she wanted to move across the world. And she did.
But it turned out that moving away was exactly what she needed. Starting over in a new place, far away from the things that triggered her depression, helped her get the fresh start she needed.
Although I miss her every day and hate that all we get is the occasional Skype conversation, nothing beats knowing that she’s happy, even if it means I don’t get to spend as much time with her as I’d like to.
My best friend is restlessly creative and hilarious. She also has manic depression. She careens from one emotional extreme to another. She would impulsively buy things that she couldn’t afford. She would have bouts of insomnia, isolate herself in her bedroom, and have panic attacks.
In March, she was admitted to the psych ward. I found that out from a text: Hey. Won’t have my phone for a while. I’m at the psych ward. I’ll call you Monday.
She never called me that Monday. I found out later that day that she was fine, and that she’d be out soon. I felt relieved.
When she got out, she still didn’t call. I felt hurt.
I finally called her, a week later. She talked about how weird the place was at night. She believes in the catharsis of comedy. Comedians like to point out the fucked-up things human beings do. When the audience agrees with the comic, they laugh.
The conversation came to a point where I had to tell her. It hurts when my best friend is in a state of distress. I feel betrayed when she says she’ll talk with me later about it, and she doesn’t. It makes me feel like I can’t help.
I didn’t know how selfish that sounded. I was on a variation of a power trip.
She apologized, and then explained. Things just are what they are sometimes.
Talking about your state of mind all the time was weird. Going to the psych ward was weird. The feelings that came out of nowhere, and the meds prescribed to counteract them were weird. Friends who demand an explanation as to why things are weird were weird.
I found myself agreeing with her, and the laughter came naturally. It always does.
I do not have an anxiety disorder, but from time to time it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest. My brain freezes and my insides feel scrambled. I have classic symptoms of anxiety like chewing my nails, speaking quickly and in fragments, or not at all, and breathing in rapid and shallow breaths.
It seems obvious, but just trying one kind of self-calming exercise is not enough. To effectively move through feelings of anxiety, it’s important to target each of these areas (the mind, the gut, the breathing) to keep all your bases in check. I’ve started doing 10-minute breathing exercises each morning. Not only does this wake me up, but it helps me not to jump out of bed in a state of dread or panic, thinking about all the things I have to do that day.
I’m trying to treat that gut feeling with a couple of things. First, I’m trying not to drink too much coffee. Caffeine is usually a magic productivity liquid, but when you’re already nervous, it can amplify those feelings, and give you a physical sensation of unrest that can only make things worse. When I do have that gut feeling, I try to just sit with it and notice what it’s doing. Sometimes it feels like it’s moving around, and sometimes it feels like a big rock. Acknowledging that physical feeling is helpful when you’re trying to conquer your anxiety — like making a list or a schedule of all of your homework rather than just haphazardly trying to accomplish everything at once.
As for my mind, I try to make lists to help me put things in focus, but sometimes staring at a long line of items can make you feel hopeless about finishing before you even start. I have tried closing all of the tabs except the ones I need on my computer, folding the list so only one item shows at a time, and even writing step-by-step instructions for how to accomplish something. (Example: Step one, open your email; Step two, find your assignment; Step three, read the assignment, etc.)
Dealing with anxiety is like getting dressed — using pants to cover your head probably isn’t effective, so why would one kind of exercise work for every symptom of anxiety?
My mom has a long history of mental illness on her side of the family. Her sister committed suicide a few years ago, and her brother abuses substances and struggles with addiction. My mom was diagnosed as bi-polar, and she also suffered from postpartum depression after she had me. This caused her to be both angry, inconsistent, and self-deprecating when I was growing up. My mom was very sensitive, and reacted poorly to things that triggered her. For example, she once sobbed on the couch for an hour after the cat scratched the fabric because she felt she was a failure in life, and couldn’t even keep her furniture looking nice. Her illness made her act out violently in both words and demeanour. She said hurtful things and made poor choices when it came to how to discipline me, or how to interact with my father, her family, and her co-workers. A lot of things she said were so painful for a child to hear, that some people might consider them unforgivable.
It wasn’t really my mom who said and did those things. My mom was also a person who taught me to be kind to everyone. She always praised me when I did something well, she always hung up my art projects, and she always woke me up by singing “Happy Birthday to You” on my birthday every year — even last year, when she called me on my cellphone at 8:00 a.m. the morning of. My mom is so much fun — she would dress up in costume to go to Harry Potter movies, and she was great at hanging out with my friends and I.
It has taken me many years to recognize that she didn’t truly mean most of her hurtful actions. It takes time, but when those memories pop up it’s important to remember it’s not your loved one who is really choosing to do these things — it’s the illness talking.
UFV counselling: UFV offers personal counselling and self-help resources to students struggling with mental illness. For more information or to make an appointment, visit ufv. ca/counselling.
UFV crisis support: Students experiencing a personal crisis can visit UFV’s crisis support. Drop by room B124 in Abbotsford (604- 854-4528) or room A1318 in Chilliwack (604- 795-2808) between 9 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. from Monday to Friday.
Crisis phone line: The crisis phone line is open 24 hours a day, every day. 604-954- 8855 or toll free 1-877-820-7444.
“PAWS” for a break: Mac, a registered therapy dog, is on campus every Tuesday from 1 to 3 p.m. in room B214. For more information call 604-854-4528.
Abbotsford Youth Health Centre: The AYHC provides counselling services for young adults up to the age of 24. They host a free drop in clinic (no appointments necessary) on Tuesdays from 3 to 7 p.m., and Thursdays from 3 to 6 p.m. at 1945 McCallum Rd.
