When my parents drove me to the airport that August morning, I still couldn’t believe that I was leaving Greece to come study abroad in Massachusetts. Though I wasn’t new to traveling to the United States, something about this trip made me feel extremely uneasy. I thought about what lay a few steps ahead: crossing that red line past airport security meant leaving Greece behind and starting a new life. I was traveling with my dad and younger brother, with a layover in New York to visit some extended family, and then heading to Amherst, Massachusetts to get me settled in to my freshman college dorm.
Driving on Route 9, in the rental filled with my dorm necessities, I made a mental checklist about what freshman year would be like. I mean, living on my own, with no responsibilities except the ones I chose to adhere to, sounded like a dream come true. But little did I realize that the family I was so eager to leave behind would become one of the triggers of my depression.
I was never a sad person. I surrounded myself with a great group of friends, friends that made me happy and were fantastic to spend time with. I was friendly with all my teachers, coaches, advisors, and everyone knew me as a well-spirited girl. My teachers would tell my parents that I would make a great addition to any college campus and that I would be extremely happy. So what happened later on was a shock to everyone.
My freshman year carried along as any other; I met a fantastic group of people (some of whom eventually would help me through my difficulties) and began to be an active member of my campus. I was very eager to try anything and everything with my new friends.
I called home often, Skyped whenever I was available and kept my family up-to-date with my new and exciting life. Since Greece is seven time zones away, keeping in touch was much more difficult than I originally planned, and going home to visit for Christmas Break was exactly what I needed. But upon arriving and spending a few days back in my old routine, I realized that I missed UMass and that home didn’t feel like “home” anymore. This revelation forced me to believe that I was beginning to consider UMass my home.
The second semester of school went by so fast, since the need to make new friends and experience newer things grew smaller by the day. I was lucky enough to bond with my friends from the first semester and that was enough. We eventually sunk into our own “routine” and grew onto each other. I’m happy to look back and see that I wouldn’t do anything differently. So after a great and fun spring semester, it was time for me to go back to Greece. I packed my suitcases, closed up shop for the summer, and headed to Boston Logan International.
I didn’t sleep for a week when I got back home. Fueled by jet-lag and black coffee, I would stay up night after night, chatting with my friends from UMass. It had only been a few days and I missed them already. My family didn’t realize that because I lived in dorms, my friends became a part of my daily life, and their absence made me uncomfortable. So adjusting to seeing my friends from high school took me some time. As every teenager, after my adjustment to being home settled, I dove into that cliche’d summer life. I planned beach and club filled vacations with my girlfriends, a nice adventure filled trip with the family, and enjoyed the life away from school. I grew into this new routine, filled with sandy beaches and cocktails and late-nights dancing. I was in a Greek island paradise and nothing was worth leaving it.
Reality kicked in around that same day in August, where a year before that, my life changed. I was heading back to school and I was not happy about it. But I went through the usual motions, got on that plane, drove to UMass, moved into my new dorm, and set about to reunite with my friends. I was so excited to see them and couldn’t wait to talk about our exciting summers, but when I eventually saw them, I felt very different. I never realized that being away from them for four months would cause our friendship to change. Though nothing really was different, our conversations were always entertaining, our nights remained incredibly fun, something felt different.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. At first I thought that the weirdness I felt was because I had been gone for so long, but the more time passed, the more isolated I began to feel. One day, on a walk back from class, I realized that I hadn’t felt happy in a while and began to take notice of my behavior. I noticed that I spent a lot of time in my room, skipping meals, not attending classes, making up excuses to not see my friends, and just sleeping and being alone. I knew enough to know that my behavior was not normal and immediately spoke to my RA. My RA came with me when I went UHS and waited for the peer counselor to come out and speak to me. My RA became concerned that I might be exhibiting signs of depression.
I sat there holding a questionnaire to assess my psychological state staring at question 37. Have you ever suffered or believe you are suffering from depression? Was this even possible? What could I possibly be depressed about?
And then it hit me. I was more shocked at the lack of immediate response that I should have had than the questions themselves. I slowly checked that box, knowing that by doing so I was finally admitting it – I was depressed and I needed help.
The first thing my counselor told me was to find someone to talk with about the way I was feeling, preferably someone my age and in my friend group, so that they could give me advice that would pertain to the situation. I immediately knew who to reach out to, so when I went back to my room I took my phone out and called my friend James. When James came over, I sat down and told him everything. Told him how I felt misplaced, how much I missed my family, and how I wanted to leave Amherst. After a few hours of conversation, he asked me if I felt better and if talking about it helped, and I sat there silently. James became my rock – every time I felt upset or sad or anything, he would invite me over and we would talk about it, or he would distract me with something else. He told me things would get better and I can honestly say that he helped me through one of the hardest times of my life.
I spent a lot of time talking to counselors at the University Health and Psychological Services and I can tell you, I’ve never felt more like myself. It was so good to finally talk about everything that was troubling me and how I felt about being here.
I think that the hardest part of adjusting to living abroad was accepting that just because I started a new life alone, doesn’t mean my old life disappeared. As cliche as it sounds, the two lives were just different chapters of the same book. My life in Greece with my family and my life here at Amherst with my friends, make me the person I am now, and feeling homesick made me feel misplaced, however, I realized that I had to embrace each one of my homes.
This experience also helped me become more positive and take things as they come. One day at a time, and everything keeps getting better. There is nothing that can’t be dealt with, but the proper support system is necessary.
I know that for many girls our depression seems very unlikely and something that has been stigmatized with a negative connotation. This stigma around depression discourages people from admitting to it. If you take anything away from my story, I think that you should do what I did and reach out to someone. Even if it’s a friend, just find someone to talk to, because holding in all your feelings will only end up hurting you more.
Speak up ladies, and stay strong. We’ve all been there at one point and we’ve made it!