Senior government and politics and information systems major
For certain people, some of the hardest things to do every day are waking up, going to class, smiling, talking to friends and going to parties like everything is perfectly normal, even though underneath it all — underneath the smiling face and relaxed demeanor — something doesn’t seem quite right. Some of the things that used to inspire you seem lackluster now, your motivation is down and even in a crowded room, you can’t stop feeling isolated.
I used to think mental health was a secondary issue — that people who suffer from mental disorders can get over their problems in time. You’re physically fine, so anything that bothers you on the inside isn’t really that important, right?
Recent personal struggles have proved that mentality wrong, but I’m not writing this column to share my life story — I’m writing with the hope that, at some point, discussing mental health won’t be considered taboo.
If you’re suffering from depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, anxiety or the like, it seems like you’re put into one of two categories: perfectly fine or completely insane.
For instance, your friends automatically think what you’re going through is “just a small phase.” Then they suddenly assume you’re crazy when they realize you’re in different shape than you used to be.
On the other hand, it’s easy to see how people suffering from, say, schizophrenia could be labeled as utterly crazed. In the age of Jared Loughner and James Holmes, coming out in need of mental help seems useless when people automatically associate violence with mental disorders.
In a 2010 National Survey of Counseling Center Directors, respondents claimed that 44 percent of campus counseling clients had severe psychological disorders, an increase from 16 percent in 2000. In addition, a 2011 survey of college students by the American College Health Association concluded nearly a third of college students reported feeling “so depressed that it was difficult to function” in the past 12 months.
The saddest thing about these statistics is that they seem completely surreal. Depression is prevalent on campuses nationwide, yet it feels like there’s no overarching awareness that it exists. Sure, there are resources on the campus, but as far as the framework of support from other students goes, dealing with depression (or any other mental disorder) feels like a pretty lonely game.
The same can be true with other statistics. Why is it that one in four college women is sexually assaulted during her college career, but I haven’t the slightest clue how to respond if someone tells me she’s been raped? Why is it that I don’t know how to help a friend if she’s dealing with anxiety?
I’m not a psychologist, but the mere fact that I, along with many others, don’t know how to respond to these types of situations should be alarming.
Although there’s no clear-cut solution, we at least need to try working in the right direction, which would involve learning how prevalent these situations are. I’m not asking for the campus to post depressing pictures everywhere about mental health disorders. I’m asking for people to find ways to understand that these issues are more prevalent than they appear and ultimately be motivated to help friends in need.
Sometimes the best way to solve problems is to help people become aware of how many people they affect. If we don’t erase this idea that only a small minority of the population needs mental help, we’re just feeding into the problem. After all, the last thing we want to do is leave our friends alone in stressful situations, feeling as if they’re in an empty room screaming for help.
Caroline Carlson is a junior government and politics and information systems major. She can be reached at ccarlsondbk@gmail.com.
