There is a culture of acceptance around mental health issues in academia
and
Dark thoughts: why mental illness is on the rise in academia
Whilst many people are able to successfully go through university and many do not experience depression, despite the high stress involved in research, I was not one of them. I did have bipolar depression and the highly competitive, highly stressful environment exacerbated it and took me to the point of wanting to commit suicide. I experienced my first bout of severe depression at the end of my Honours year in Cape Town. I didn't tell anyone, but my supervisor noticed I was not myself and at the final dinner when we were given our results he did say he had at one point wondered if I was going to make it to the end of the year. What he and noone else knew was that I had indeed come very close to not just failing to finish my degree, but also nearly ended my life. I had in fact taken all the medication I had in my cupboard at one point and if I hadn't vomited it back up, might indeed have not been at the farewell dinner.
Over the course of my Masters I had major mood swings and some depression. I think I had more extreme mainc phases though over that period. The political unrest in Zim didn't make it easy either and I had bouts of psychosis when my mind went into over drive due to my worrying about things back home. My doctor in Cape Town did suggest I might have depression but it cleared up and I didn't get help. Knowing my Dad had been manic depressive or bipolar meant I was aware I could possibly be too, but it terrified me that I was and knowing that my Dad had refused lithium as it he felt the side effects were unbearable made me reluctant to want to explore if I had it too and I was scared I might be put on lithium.
Academia was probably not the wisest career choice for me as its high stress levels and isolation were not a healthy combo for me. I am a bit of perfectionist and never felt what I wrote or thought was good enough or enough to make me graduate. I have always been a high achiever and I drove myself to keep getting good grades and feeling I owed it to my family to do well. I constantly felt inadequate though and out of my depth.
Finishing my Masters I returned to Zim. I had been trying to sort out getting work or a PhD in Cape Town but nothing came through and my study visa expired. Edinburgh had offered me a place to pursue a PhD looking at miombo woodlands in Mozambique but I lacked the funding to take up the position. Back home I kept trying to find the elusive money to pursue this but there was limited funding for African students and I was not successful with the scholarship applications I sent off.
Instead, what seemed like an amazing opportunity to study in Switzerland opened up and I seized the offer gratefully with both hands. In hindsight I bit off more than I could chew though as not only was the PhD requiring me to do most of my work in computer programming and code but also was going to require me to understand French. It was not a wasted experience as I made good contacts through it and experienced a new life in Europe, but when depression hit me again I went even closer to the brink of suicide and my complete nervous break down and disillusion took more than three years for me to recover from.
I also signed up to go to a country where I only knew one other person and although my church was supportive, before my break down I spent many lonely weekends and evenings slaving over an overwhelming thesis. I pushed myself extremely hard but no matter how much work I put in, I didn't seem to make progress and although I was often the last person to leave the lab at night (often taking the last train home) it didn't get me to where I had to be. I said yes too easily and went off on all sorts of tangents in my research questions.
Just before I finally cracked I took time out and started being more social, but the whole time I felt guilty that I wasn't working none stop and my supervisor started to put pressure on. I ultimately just couldn't cope and after not sleeping for several nights in a row I handed in my resignation and ended up in a mental hospital. Even being admitted to hospital though did not remove the stress and I prematurely tried to go back to work. Knowing I was on a scholarship for a joint research project I felt insurmountable pressure to live up to expectations and felt I had failed everyone. The university gave me five months leave to try pull myself back together but I just couldn't do it and it has taken a good three years.
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