Content warning: discussion of mental illness (depression, anxiety).

On September 15th, an opinion piece was published to The Medium—The Case For Personal Responsibility. I don’t recommend you read it; as far as unethical reporting on mental health goes, this is a good example of it. To see it published in one of U of T’s student newspapers amidst a mental health crisis is disheartening, and more importantly damaging. I am very, very lucky that I am currently in a place with my metal health that I can read this article and take it with a grain of salt (if even that). Others might not be. 

A background: I’m an Innis College student suffering from two diagnosed mental illnesses, depression and anxiety. I study part time (because of my illnesses), pursuing a specialist and two minors while also working part-time on the side. My illnesses are not recent, and I’d say I’m not new to navigating mental health resources and dialogue. I currently consider myself to be safe, though (to put it lightly) not at the peak of my well-being. Just getting to this level of mental wellness has been a lot of hard work, and I’m lucky to have been able to manage it.

But I haven’t always been lucky, and not everyone is.

I’m not going to tackle this article through mental health statistics and statements from professionals. While those are valuable, they have already been reported by media inside and outside of U of T and I don’t see any sense in parroting others. I also believe that we need to collect and focus on the stories and experiences of students in order to truly grasp and address the crisis we are in. Our experiences with mental health at the University are simultaneously unified and diverse; if we distance ourselves from the problem and look at numbers alone we will make no progress. Let’s get personal!

I’m not going to exaggerate and say that my depression symptoms began in university, but it is when I found they congregated into a formal illness. I had probably been diagnosably ill for at least a year, before hitting a breaking point at the end of second year and being assessed by a doctor. I’ve been doing everything I can to better myself since then, to varying levels of success. Sometimes I can’t do anything at all. 

Regarding the case for personal responsibility, it assumes a strong victim-blaming approach to seeking better health. It belittles those who are ill and those experiencing symptoms of illness. (Try harder, it seems to croon. It’s your fault you’re like this.) It attempts to absolve the University of blame, as if simply the presence of Health and Wellness counts as a sufficient resource. This is an easy stance to take if you don’t have first-hand experience with mental illness or navigating health care resources—unfortunately, it is also ignorant and irresponsible.

First off, getting yourself to the point where you can access a resource while suffering from mental illness and symptoms of such can be excruciatingly difficult. It’s like breaking both of your feet and being stuck with no transportation to the hospital. You might find a way to get there eventually, but, given the circumstances, it won’t be easy. Second, accessing resources doesn’t always go the way one would hope. At the end of my second year when I had finally given in and acknowledged how dangerous my symptoms of depression were, I was in crisis and immediately tried to access a doctor at Health and Wellness. I arrived as soon as they opened and asked to see a doctor; when I revealed that it was for my mental health, I was told that they “don’t accept mental health walk-ins” and was sent away. This kind of treatment is what sends students further into risk, and if I hadn’t walked myself over to a nearby walk-in clinic I genuinely don’t know where I’d be today. 

I wish I could say that asking me to wait for an appointment at a later date (which is of course not acceptable when one is in crisis) was all Health and Wellness needs to improve upon and all I’ve personally experienced. Unfortunately, there’s more; after failing to start my mental healthcare at the University, I had started accessing doctors, psychiatrists, and therapists outside of the University completely. Thankfully, this has largely worked for me! Eventually I decided I wanted to improve my diet and learn how to improve my mood through healthy eating (which The Case For Personal Responsibility would love as it implies diet will cure your mood disorder). So, rather than paying for a dietitian outside of the University, I decided to try accessing the one offered by Health and Wellness. This requires a referral from a Health and Wellness family doctor, and I expected this to be fairly quick and harmless as far as appointments go. 

Unfortunately, this was not the case. When I explained to the doctor that I just wanted a referral dietitian to improve my diet (listing my mood disorder as my motivation to do so), she proceeded to belittle me and my diagnosed disorders for the rest of the appointment. In the same vein, she criticized my will to see a dietitian, telling me that they were a scam and that I didn’t need one. Despite having informed her that I already had regular doctors at a clinic, a psychiatrist at CAMH, a therapist I saw regularly and that I was soon to be enrolled in group CBT, she found it necessary to attempt to rediagnose me and give me unsolicited advice. You should try eating beans, she said. Have you tried finding a new hobby? 

I guess I had been lucky up until that point. Previously, I’ve been taken fairly seriously when discussing my illness with others. I had never felt so patronized before.

I did leave with a referral to a dietitian, but I also left sobbing and having signed to have my patient data sent over to her from my actual doctor despite being so distraught there’s no way I could have properly consented to it. This appointment did everything it could to threaten my safety, and it succeeded. To this day I am left bitter and unwilling to visit Health and Wellness unless absolutely necessary. 

It is disingenuous to say the University’s resources are trustworthy when poor experiences are echoed by a significant portion of students. If you manage to get into the University’s mental healthcare system, waitlists are long and more often than not your access to a therapist is very short term (and therefore less effective). One therapist also doesn’t work for everyone, so the ones provided by the University might not be suitable for you. If you are a full-time student and opt to use the Health and Dental insurance provided by the UTSU, your coverage has been significantly lowered due to sustainability issues making it all the more difficult to access therapy (and if your coverage is from a different union, you likely don’t fare any better). 

I love optimism as much as the next person, but unfortunately a healthier diet and gratitude journaling won’t cure me when the treatment I receive from the University is inadequate and actively puts me at risk. It’s hard enough navigating courses, jobs, extracurriculars and other expectations in a community that values excellence seemingly above all else (particularly health). The University certainly isn’t making it any easier. If I can step up, so can U of T.