I was once a happy, healthy, young teenager just like any other.  I had plenty of friends,  thrived at school and generally enjoyed life.  But, one year into Sixth Form, I developed some health problems: eczema, inflamed skin and difficulty getting to sleep.  I hadn't encountered these problems before, and I just assumed they were part of a 'phase' I was going through.  Yet, month after month, my sense of well-being rapidly deteriorated; the normally happy, intelligent and excitable soul within me seemed to drain away.  By the final term of Sixth Form, the inability to concentrate, physical and mental fatigue, disinterest in fun activities, and diminishing self-confidence were just some of the additional symptoms that made me feel as if I were just existing. I remember receiving my A-level exam results, which were among the best in the Year.  Gleaming faces surrounded me, but behind the charade of joy and fulfillment, all I felt inside was emptiness. I didn't know what was happening to me.

A few months later, after making a crucial but belated visit to my GP, I was diagnosed with depression, given a course of anti-depressants and decided to take a gap-year.  Was it because of exam stress?  Did I just need a year's rest before embarking on a degree course? Unfortunately, when the time to restart my education arrived I fell apart again. With plenty of persuasion, I chose to persevere with my course.  After the initial shock of university life, my anxiety settled down, but the depression, constant fatigue, and the lack of concentration remained.

Then came what I'd been waiting for all year: the summer vacation.  Continuing my course of anti-depressant medication whilst regularly seeing my GP, and a enjoying a long break from studying, I hoped that I would return fresh for the autumn term of my second year.  Sadly it wasn't to be.  A series of simultaneous 'hiccups' – including a strenuous timetable and difficult coursework – resulted in another nervous breakdown.  This time the anxiety was worse than ever.  Fear, breathlessness, palpitations, sweating, light-headedness along with a sense of isolation, impending doom and desolation left me unable to cope with life.  I guess this was the turning point for me, I finally accepted that depression is not a mere inconvenience, or a punishment for being a bad person.  It is a true physical illness, and needs to be dealt with as such.  I began my journey to explore new ways of overcoming the illness, in addition to the medication that I was taking.

Firstly, my supervisor was very helpful, and managed to reduce the amount of coursework and extend my deadlines until the anxiety had cleared. I was also given a block of one-to-one counseling sessions at the University Counseling Service.  This proved to be an invaluable source of help.  My counselor and I explored the reasons behind my depression, and we discovered that being a perfectionist and a workaholic were major contributions.  We talked about how I'd lost my identity in having a life devoted to studying, whether at sixth-form or here at university.  I was referred to a self-help book too, which really helped me to understand my illness, appreciate the causes and to set strategies to combat it.  The book is call Depressive Illness: The Curse of the Strong by T Cantopher, (SPCK Publishing, 2003) £6.99.

These days the anxiety is minimal, although I'm still suffering with depression.  Every day I wake up feeling unrefreshed, and fatigue plagues my days.  Some days are much worse than others, and all I can do is lie in bed all day.  But I've learned to accept that I'm ill, and as such there will be bad days and better days.  Trying to overcome depression in an academic setting – facing complex ideas, tight deadlines, a busy lifestyle, and possible isolation (possibly more so for arts students) – is not ideal, but it's a challenge I'm willing to take up.

I've learned that it's just not feasible to work at 'full capacity' all the time.  I've started to set lower targets for myself, in terms of how much studying I can do, and I try and appreciate that not every assignment I produce will be perfect.  When I encounter a difficult topic, I recognize when I'm getting stressed and obsessed with the topic, and I just take time out to relax and focus my mind elsewhere.  In fact, I specifically set time aside for unwinding in my diary now.  Alongside this I've also taken up an active role in a couple of societies, and strengthened my sports regime to broaden my sense of identity with things other than studying.  There's a long way until I get back to the old me, but I'm beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel. 

It is my hope that this article will not invite sympathy or pity, but increase the general awareness and perception of depression.  It's not just a scientific theory, certainly not a matter of insanity, or a fate for outsiders, but a real illness that is affecting many of those close to us.  For those who have depression, or think they do, I hope I have inspired you to believe that depression can be broken.