When I started college in 2020, nothing was how I had imagined it would be. Instead of moving into a dorm, meeting my floormates, and exploring campus between classes, I was stuck in my childhood bedroom, attending virtual lectures and only knowing my classmates as little boxes on Zoom.
I had struggled with loneliness and anxiety before, but like millions of others, the pressures and losses of the pandemic pushed these feelings to new levels. At first, I hoped they would be temporary, that once the world returned to normal, my mental health would, too. But as time passed, I realized that wasn’t the case. Even as in-person life resumed, the weight of my struggles remained.
My parents knew I was having a hard time and encouraged me to seek help through my school’s counseling services. But I resisted. I had plenty of excuses—spending even more time on Zoom felt unbearable, I didn’t want to take up limited mental health resources that I felt others needed more, and, perhaps most of all, I feared the stigma of seeking treatment.
While the virtual aspect was temporary, the other barriers never disappeared. Looking back, I believe that if my school’s mental health resources had been better funded and more widely available, I wouldn’t have hesitated as much. I wouldn’t have felt guilty about seeking help, and the stigma surrounding mental health might have been lessened.
After graduating, my mental health challenges only grew. And I quickly realized that the obstacles to seeking care in college—while daunting at the time—were nothing compared to the barriers I faced in the real world.
Finding a mental health provider as a recent graduate has been exhausting. Many providers aren’t taking new patients, and even fewer specialize in my specific needs. Insurance has been another nightmare. Despite finding an in-network provider, my insurance company initially refused to acknowledge that my family had met our deductible, leaving me to pay out of pocket in the hopes of being reimbursed later.
I regret not taking advantage of my school’s mental health services when I had access to them. But even though I didn’t use them myself, I saw how vital they were for my peers. Thanks to the Mental Health Early Action on Campus Act—and hopefully, increased funding—more students will have access to the care they need before they reach a breaking point.
As I begin my postgraduate studies, I plan to use campus mental health services this time around. And with increased funding, I hope they will be even more accessible—not just for me, but for every student who needs them.
Mental health care shouldn’t be a privilege; it should be a guarantee.