These were two of my diary entries, a couple of months after taking the big decision to pack my bags and leave home to go to Leeds University. As you can see from the words I poured on to the page, I struggled. A lot. I was already going through a pretty tough time before I went to uni, with self harming and suffering from Anorexia turned EDNOS, but I had high hopes; just like my sister, who absolutely thrived when she went to uni, I would go and make hundreds of new friends, find myself as a person and finally be happy.
It’s safe to say that didn’t happen, at least not in first year anyway. I didn’t make any real connections in my flat, my confidence and self esteem was so down on the ground that I couldn’t even talk to new people, I was getting blackout drunk 3x a week and making mistakes that just pushed me away from others even further, I felt like I was already failing in my degree and I was so lonely my heart physically ached and I would sit in my room and cry for hours on end. My eating disorder, exercise addiction and self harming got drastically worse, as they were the only methods I knew to help me cope. What was supposed to be the best year of my life turned into the absolute worst.
But did I show that? Did I talk about how I was feeling to others? No. Instead, I posted pictures like this: (insert typical uni dress up night)
And this: (insert alcohol and drunk eyes)
And this: (insert photo with ALL my new best friends)
I desperately wanted to portray how happy I was, how much fun I was having, how many new mates I had. Because that’s what all my friends and peers were doing. They obviously didn’t feel the same as I did, their photos and social media posts clearly showed that. They were having the best time of their LIFE. Right? Wrong. Since opening up about how I felt, I’ve realised I wasn’t alone by a long shot. Lots and lots of people felt the same way, yet they didn’t want to admit it either. So we all just kept playing the game, pretending there was nothing wrong. Funny.
So I suppose my message here is this: if you aren’t enjoying uni it is not your fault and as much as it may feel like it, you are NOT alone. Talk, open up about how you’re feeling and I guarantee someone will say to you ‘thank GOD, me too!’ and then everything from there will feel a little easier. Moving to uni is a scary time: we’re forced to grow up whilst at the same time feeling pressured to go out and act anything like a grown up. It’s okay to be scared, it’s okay to be lonely and it’s okay to be sad. Just make sure you’re being honest, with yourself and others. And remember, don’t believe everything on social media.
In hindsight, there’s a lot of things I would do differently about going to uni. However, its the butterfly effect – perhaps if I hadn’t gone through that experience, I wouldn’t be the person I am now. I wouldn’t have lived with my absolute best friends 2nd and 4th year (and had an amazing time), I wouldn’t have had my dream placement at an ED outpatient centre, I might not have had the same experiences which have led to my healing from my mental health issues. Everything happens for a reason.
Love,
Kirsty
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The Kirsty Way 