My first semester at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign was the most stressful time of my life. A new school. A new level of expectations. An altogether unfamiliar environment. What if I fail a class? How do I study for these courses? Where will I end up if I don’t build a stellar resume and earn at least a 3.5 GPA?
Stress. Imposter syndrome. Depression. Anxiety. These were struggles I had faced before, but I had never tried medication, nor did I have the tools to manage them on my own.
Then, just like that, I was on academic probation. My grades had already slipped during my senior year of high school, leading to my removal from the university’s Honors Program before I started. Now, after my first semester, I was facing dismissal. The noise in my head never stopped. The weight on my shoulders never lifted. The pressure in my chest never loosened. But in 2012, what other options did I have without a college degree? How else would I build a career that allowed me to survive? My life felt over.
That was the first time I attempted suicide. But it wouldn’t be the last.
Despite everything, I fought my way through and graduated with a 3.52 GPA and distinction in Communication. But the battle for my mental health was far from over. I had pushed myself to the limit trying to compensate for my rough start—18+ credit hour semesters, multiple campus jobs, summer classes, scholarship pageants, study abroad, off-campus work, community service, and countless applications. I did everything I could to prove I deserved to be there.
By the time I finished my master’s degree and attended law school at a top-ranked program, I was utterly burnt out. Mental stability? Never met her. Emotional stability? Couldn’t tell you what that is. But I could introduce you to PTSD, anxiety, clinical depression, OCD, and borderline personality disorder. At least 10 mental breakdowns and four suicide attempts later—this is 30.
Looking back, I can’t imagine how I would have survived without access to mental health services through my college and law school insurance plans. The worst setback I ever experienced was when I was wrongfully dismissed from school. Suddenly, I lost all access to Student Wellness resources. I had just started making progress with my psychotherapist. I was about to enroll in the Academic Skills Assessment Program (ASAP) to manage my academic performance and receive accommodations through the Student Disability Services (SDS). To make matters worse, my longtime psychiatrist had just closed her practice to take a job with the university, leaving me without any transition plan. The impact of this was devastating—I have yet to fully recover from the experience, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
This is why mental health services on college campuses are not optional. They are essential. Every student, regardless of their academic standing or financial situation, deserves access to the support they need. No one should have to fight for their education and their survival at the same time.