I would rather be sitting under a jacaranda tree, pretending to do my readings in the sun. I want to be playing into the romanticisation of academia, rather than running from it; breathing in knowledge, soaking up campus. I don’t mean to sound cliche, but isn’t it true that we came to this institution to learn? To thrive, to gain knowledge, to go beyond the comforts of the walls of our homes? I don’t mean to sound crazy, but I would rather be sitting in the lecture hall, or at the very least watching my recorded lectures and actually listening. Instead I lay in bed, watching the sun rise and set from the window. I trudge myself to the classes I cannot afford to miss (I miss a few of those, too) and skip the rest. I do not sit in the sun or wander the campus, and I do not wait for friends when the tutorial is over. I return home, to my bed, and do not leave until I must, once again.
I’ve noticed this happens every few weeks to every few months. An unending cycle of academic depression finds you at the most inconvenient time, right as the exams begin to loom and the lectures begin to pile. When study groups become the most viable form of socialising. When the only chance you have of passing the unit is by simply getting out of bed and finishing that bloody assignment — but it’s impossible. It is the worst form of torture; the deadlines you won’t meet hang over your head, a sleep paralysis demon of your own making.
My therapist describes this time in our youth as “the worst years”. He assures me that it’s normal, no matter how awful it feels now, and promises a light at the end of the tunnel. Adulthood (after we clumsily grow into our skins, when we’ve stretched ourselves far and thin enough to become worthy people) is meant to be easier than whatever limbo period this is. But as everyday becomes slower and slower, you wonder… are you even going to make it to adulthood at this pace?
The guilt of not enjoying my youth haunts me. I grieve for the elaborate plans I had, for all the memories I am yet to make. The guilt of not enjoying the studies I was once passionate about follows me like a constant shadow. I remember fighting hard for the degree I chose, feeling excited to truly learn. It doesn’t escape my notice that I have not appreciated it once since I have begun it. The guilt of burning out, over, and over, and over again, when I would rather be living, eats into my core. What was meant to be years of late night parties, early morning brunches, and the brain-rotted study sessions with friends has turned into bed rotting and hours spent wondering how far behind your peers you have fallen. Exhaustion riddles your body and your mind.
Academic depression is not unique. I hate to be the one to tell you, but it doesn’t make you special when you are unable to muster any sense of motivation, urgency, or initiative to study, to participate, or to even live (rather than survive) through the semester. This isn’t necessarily meant to be comforting, that most students go through the same suffering that you do. It doesn’t make the process any less lonely either. It does mean, however, that the guilt that eats you alive, for pushing back your degree by a semester (or multiple), or by strategically failing out of a class, or ghosting your friends, doesn’t need to cannibalise you completely.
So, how do you survive it?
My advice would be (as a veteran of academic depression), allow it. Give into it, just a little. Listen to your body when it is begging you to rest, lay in bed, and watch the sun rise and set. Let go of that one assignment that hangs over your head, if you can afford it, if it is worth letting go of. It happens: don’t feel too awful about it.
Don’t shy away from your suffering, and use the university resources to your advantage. As poorly accommodating as they may be at times, they exist, they are there to be used, and they can be the difference between making it through the semester or having a meltdown as it hits that 12am deadline. Use your simple extension, use your special consideration, but also use the other resources that are offered to you, the little things that make the slump a little easier. After you leave the class you forced yourself to go to, sit under a jacaranda tree for ten minutes before going home. Take a walk around the quad before catching the bus. Say hi to your friends in Fisher library on your way out. If you happen to stay and have a good time, well, I won’t tell you ‘I told you so’, but…
Allow the people in your life who love you to love you back to health. The last few cycles of depression that I have fallen into during the semester, it was my family that pulled me out of bed (literally). They were the ones to sit with me through every breakdown, to patiently tell me that it was okay to put my mental health before my academics. They convinced me that my love for academia wasn’t broken, just clouded by the pressure of high distinctions and competition and a desire for validation through pretty grades. In the aftermath, you might find that you didn’t regret the decisions you made in order to protect your sanity.
Remember, you are not falling behind. Falling behind is a myth in university. It may feel as though life is moving forward without you, that you are stagnant, doing the same units of study but not getting any closer to graduation, or that your friends are moving onto bigger things without you. None of it is true. Remember, when you feel as though you are falling behind, the person next to you on the bus back home feels it too. Breathe.
