Mental Health and College: Treatment vs. Self-Medication

I thought I could try what I had done during high school and get involved with sports again. This did not work. I attended a Division I sports college and the teams were recruited or on scholarship. I was too shy to do intramural sports past the first two attempts: the crowds were huge, and I was overwhelmed. I still jogged on my own, and this was an early method of escape for me. This daily exercise of jogging was a form of stress release as well (I just did not know it at the time).

I did get involved in student government in my dorm area, and that was at least a beginning to make friends. I had no interest in it, but my sister did it while in college, so I followed her example. I really had to push myself and not run from the room for the first few sessions. A peer from my dorm was nice to me, and this is the only reason why I stayed involved. Pure happenstance for friendships.

I did seek out a therapist on campus. I did not tell her my suicidal thoughts, but I did tell her the home life I left behind, how my sadness was crushing, and that I wanted to leave and be anywhere else but here. I saw her for three sessions before I quit. Here again was a missed opportunity. I could have started treatment of some kind as they had the facilities, but I chose not to continue because I felt like such a loser.

Being in such a depressed state, I ended up dating men who were not very nice. (My self-esteem was so low that when a boyfriend told me I needed to lose weight I dropped 15 pounds. I was already slender and not overweight by any means, but I did it anyway. I looked sickly, but he liked it--this is an example of what NOT to do!)

I also become friendlier with the drug dealers on my floor. They seemed relaxed, and I wanted to know what that was about. I choked on my first bong hit and even then, "all was cool." Wow, they were so nice! So, I tried pot a few more times. The "luck" in this scenario is that I was already so paranoid I stopped doing it. I had the opportunity to try just about every other drug, but I was too scared to lose control. In hindsight, I am glad I was too scared. I know I would have so easily become hooked due to my desperation to escape. This was a close call that I barely dodged.

One drug I did try (again) was cigarettes. Right across the hallway, I could go into my friend's room for a "study break" and share a cigarette. These smoking buddies soon would then seek me out in the library at 11:00 p.m. to take me to keg parties or frat parties. This is when my binge drinking started. Smoking and drinking became my escape. I smoked when I was happy, I smoked when I was sad, I smoked when I studied, I smoked when I was stressed. The drinking was secondary. The smoking, for me, was primary. (I know now that smoking increases the serotonin levels in the brain and perhaps this is why I liked the feeling of smoking and became addicted so quickly.) Once the smoking and drinking started, I began to care less and less about Ivy League status. I was also unable to keep up with my running due to the smoking, and thus smoked more.