This week is Mental Health Awareness week and although my experiences are not unique, it is incredibly close to my heart – especially with regards to the whole university situation. When I wrote ‘how to lose a personality’, I was still in the immediacy of the whole thing. It’s also quite interesting to read it back because, gosh how much changed within the first few months of the year. The comment at the end of that post, that ‘everything is temporary to an extent’ is one that I am hopeful of. There are definitely things in that post I feel to be true, and also quite funny because I definitely do not think Bristol would have gotten better for me. I actually went back in March to complete my TEFL course, it was so nice to see my old flatmates and I think it made me feel at peace with it all. I loved visiting but was ultimately stifled as a student there. 

To provide a little background to this post. I did A-Levels in French, History and English Literature and began studying History and French at the University of Bristol in September 2019. After leaving for the Christmas holidays, I officially dropped out just before the new term started. In terms of future plans, I’m going to be studying French and beginner’s Spanish at Durham this September. 

The way I’d sum up how I felt in Bristol was heavy. I felt heavy when I was walking around the city, or when I was with friends, or discussing the mythology of the Empire Windrush in a seminar where I would retreat to silence. While others were having fun, I was wondering what I was doing wrong to not enjoy my university experience. Everyone has doubts in the first term, but not all-consuming ones. Those around me proclaimed that university was going to be the making of me, and I too considered that this was what I’d been working towards. Looking back, what I thought I wanted from my university experience was different from who I actually am as a person. University stereotypes aren’t exactly accurate, but I did feel there was a very specific ‘Bristol culture’ that’s hard to articulate, one beyond the city itself. I must add that no two people have the same university experience, some of my closest friends love it there. There were moments I enjoyed, don’t get me wrong, but the absences of enjoyable moments were profoundly felt.

One of the questions someone asked was why I made the decision to leave and honestly, I don’t think Bristol, the University at least, was for me. The culture cultivated there was one I felt like a sore outsider and I was just throwing myself in different places randomly in order to find some semblance of self. I also wasn’t in love with the course, so committing another 3 and a half years to it would be ridiculous for the sake of a term and a subsequent gap year, or nine months. I worried a lot about how this year might affect future job prospects, or how other people might see me but quite frankly, I was wasting more time at university than not. One of the reasons I stayed the whole term was because I couldn’t quite believe I wasn’t enjoying the course or university life. It wasn’t within the first few weeks I had these feelings either, but from around October time and I don’t think I really connected with how I was feeling until that moment; when I did it came down like a tonne of bricks. One of my mistakes was that I refused to go home until reading week, which was needed respite made it clear to me how I’d been ignoring my emotions completely.

However, to a certain extent when people ask me why I dropped out, there is no definite answer. If I said it was my mental health, there were pitying looks and statements flung that university isn’t for everyone. Which is true, but in my case, I just didn’t develop that affinity with Bristol that I thought I would and the lifestyle of perpetual nights out where I lacked the will to say no took their toll. I also think it was a period where I finally opened up about my mental health, reaching out to a GP which was followed by a less than surprising diagnosis, followed by a phone call to my best friend who couldn’t quite believe it. Maybe I don’t open up enough, or maybe I just see my own mental health problems as an extension of my personality and not something to try to tackle or talk about. I also think, looking back, that concerning my mental health, Bristol wasn’t totally the problem. Yes, I had trouble balancing everything but I feel the same feelings every year, so perhaps it ebbs and flows with the seasons. Equally, such feelings of anxiety and depression should not be directly linked to whether it is above 10 degrees with bright sunshine. You can have cloudy days but a cloudy mood is different. From a mental health perspective, previous issues with the psychology of food started creeping back – one of the reasons why I ended up moving to catered accommodation during the term and one of the things I’d do differently. If you’re a prospective student, look at accommodation wisely. 

The following question was whether it was hard to make the jump, which was yes and no. In my mind, I knew I was not returning when I left in the middle of December, but there was still part of me that wondered: could I actually go through with the decision? A fairly messy New Year’s Eve had me telling everyone I was dropping out. I think that must’ve confirmed it. If I’m being completely honest, I did disappoint my parents with the verdict. My dad’s response was ‘well, it’s a shame’ and my mum still upholds that going to university and leaving university after a term is ‘a dream shattered’ even if I am going back, as her experience at Birmingham was vastly different. They were fully supportive of my decision because of course, they didn’t want me to continue feeling the way I did in Bristol. Equally, I think it did highlight that the decision to leave was totally mine, I knew in my heart I was forging the right path for me, made clearer by the ease in which I found it to return to life at home.

A few of my close friends also dropped out of university (not Bristol) and I think the takeaway of that is that you are not alone if you’re thinking about it. It is, by no means, a decision to take lightly and often doubts about whether the course or the place is right will materialise, especially in the first term. Not, however, to the extent of waking up every day wondering why you are in your present institution. I think we need to normalise conversations about not loving university. For some, it can be the best years of your life and for others, a cycle of academia and not quite finding your place. No, the answer isn’t always going to be to walk away – but I do think that opening up about doubting decisions is a positive reflection. When I started saying I wasn’t loving Bristol, others around me began to express their own doubts or worries. They stayed, I left. 

I think both taking a gap year, as well as dropping out has made me more self-assured. I am no longer the chaotic student trying to put their hand in everything out of sheer confusion in Bristol. I know I love learning languages, art, literature and outside of my degree, I’m passionate about sustainable and ethical fashion and the creative industry. The act of taking a year out enabled that discovery which I think I needed (even more so now with lockdown). Not that I’m saying everyone needs a gap year to find themselves, but it has helped. University itself is the perfect opportunity to explore new avenues, discover new interests and go on an academic journey. My ‘journey’ in Bristol was consistently from the club to my bedroom, to staring at a desk, more often watching a mindless show on Netflix opposed to any work and then going to yet another society in the hope I would feel fulfilled.

I think what I would have done differently would have taken a gap year originally, although even then I’m not sure I would have had the opportunity to learn from the mistakes I made. I’ve had time to fully explore my interests, research the course as much as the university itself, and speak to students who are friends opposed to those on open days (definitely a top tip there). It’s been incredibly beneficial to speak to friends that are already at university and if you’re in the process of deciding which uni to choose don’t be afraid to reach out to people you know in the years above. They’ll no doubt reveal information that goes beyond the primed images on social media. 

If anything, dropping out of university was not the sign of weakness that I so built up in my head but one that has definitely made me stronger and more sure of myself and decisions. If you’re reading this and have dropped out, or are thinking about it – please talk to those around you but go with your gut. I had such conflicting views from different people but there is no way I regret dropping out – it is your decision. The keyword of this year’s mental health awareness week is kindness and I think we all need to grant ourselves a little more of that. 

lots of love, eleanor xx

Ps. if you are reading this and are thinking about dropping out, changing course or aren’t having the best time at university – my DMs are always open to talk. That goes for any mental health discussion as well <3 

Further reading: Chloe Plumstead’s post on dropping out of university (Bristol) – written after completing her degree at UEA. I’m not sure how I found this post but I can remember reading it when I was actually thinking about leaving – ‘it wasn’t that I wasn’t good enough, I just wasn’t happy’ was particularly resonant. Also the fear of other people’s disappointment.