Having received a diagnosis in the month before going abroad, I remember being consumed by a genuine fear, learning that I wouldn’t have access to university counselling. Fear that I would repeat the mistakes of first year. Fear that I would be away from my support system. Fear that it would all come falling down.

My year abroad opportunity was nothing short of exciting. I was living on the other side of Europe, studying German and Russian, as a year out of my usual studies. I can guarantee this won’t be a memory I’ll forget, and a piece of my heart will remain in this beautiful city when I leave.

That’s not to say it hasn’t been without its challenges. I’m blessed enough to have the opportunity to travel abroad. I’m also unfortunate enough to have been diagnosed with a mental health condition two months before I arrived. 1 in 4 people experience a mental health condition each year, according to Mind. That’s how I know this doesn’t place me in a unique position. If anything, that’s what makes it worse.

Before leaving the UK, my first year at university had been a long journey with mental health. I’d attempted to reach out to NHS talking therapies before going to university, and was told that due to my moving away, I couldn’t be supported. Therefore, during Michaelmas, I’d tried to reach out for counselling, but this wasn’t given to me until at the end Hilary. 

Whilst we did make real progress with finding the root cause, I then learned that I could no longer access this counselling while abroad. The university could offer “check-up” sessions but could under no circumstances offer counselling. I once heard that the reason for this was due to high insurance costs.

I have distinct memories of everyone getting so excited about moving somewhere far and unique, whereas I remained firmly planted in fear. In the weeks before I left, I cried every day to my family. Whilst every mental health condition is different, mine thrives on stability and consistency, and therefore such a large change was terrifying. Considering how the first year of university had been, I was scared the same would happen again. But this time, there would be no family nearby.

Things weren’t as bad as I feared in every respect. Thankfully, my placement abroad was with the rest of my Russian cohort, which allowed me the chance to speak to other people. At first, I was scared to open up, as though my mental health condition was a shameful secret. Now, I regularly speak about it with my friends. 

However healthy this may be, that doesn’t mean that counselling wouldn’t have been helpful. After one term abroad, I reached out for a “check-up”, feeling as though I needed more options. Whilst manageable, I recognised that one panic attack per day wasn’t the average, and that’s not something I, nor anyone else, should have to cope with.

Asking my counsellor for options, she presented me with several. But when following them up, I learnt that I could not receive funding for private therapy through the university. She suggested I wait for therapy, and reluctantly, I’ve had to agree (although I only recently discovered the university wouldn’t provide the type of therapy I need anyway, which feels like another disillusionment).

My outrage comes primarily from the complete abandonment from the university. Yes, they do provide “check-ups”, but this really doesn’t help with any issue that an individual may have. I grant you, a space to discuss things is never bad, but these sessions soon became an unrealistic portrayal of my life. The counsellor focused primarily on my achievements, which, naturally, should be celebrated, but didn’t seem to focus on the recurring issues I was having outside of the sessions. She would tell me things that seemed like good advice on the surface but were the exact opposite advice for my specific mental health condition.

My experience isn’t in isolation either. It’s for this reason I believe that students on their Year Abroad are being failed by the university. Unless they have their own means to fund private therapy, they cannot access the help that they need. This is poor form for anyone who has a mental health problem and is struggling. On my Year Abroad, I have spent nights having two-hour panic attacks, with no therapeutic advice but only a thankfully understanding partner to guide me through. I’ve been struck down in shopping centres when life becomes overwhelming and I have started to feel light-headed. I’ve cried, sober after clubbing as everything feels like it has become too heavy once again. 

And I am so grateful for the people who have been there each time. They’ve made my personal Year Abroad experience so much easier. But I feel so strongly for the people who don’t travel as a cohort, or who perhaps aren’t as close. Or for those who don’t show their emotions as strongly as I do. For people who want support but may put up a wall with their friends. Or for the people whose mental health just isn’t as manageable as my own, for people with life-threatening mental health conditions, or who are going through a dark time. In fact, I even feel for myself and those in a similar situation, where maybe it’s not severe, but a moderate mental health condition still should never be overlooked.

For a university that pretends to care so strongly about welfare, I believe this is honestly a pretty shocking situation to put its students in. It’s atrocious that the resources aren’t there for those who need it, considering how many struggle with mental health conditions each year. Especially from such a wealthy and influential university, who have the funds to provide such necessary welfare.

This is also a true reflection that mental health remains a rich-poor divide. Those who can afford private therapy have the potential for recovery or better management much early than those who don’t. That in itself is completely absurd. If the university wants to increase the amount of state school applicants, mental health support should be accessible to all at any point throughout their degree. 

As a minimum, the university should be providing any bursary recipients with the funding for private counselling sessions, or be willing to pay the higher insurance rates to offer these sessions themselves. But realistically, this should be offered to anyone who needs it, no matter their background. And the unwillingness to support sufficiently leaves those from less well-off backgrounds feeling isolated, abandoned and hopeless. 

This should not be allowed to continue.

Something needs to change. And soon. Students cannot be expected to live with short-term solutions they’ve found on the internet, when in reality they need trained, professional support. It’s too late now for any change to impact my own Year Abroad experience, but I hope in the near future something changes for other students, so they don’t feel as isolated, hopeless and abandoned as I have felt in the last year.