Graphic by Joaquín Kunkel/The Gazelle

MADRID, Spain — Grades. Internships. Awards. Chasing them left me caught up in a flurry for as long as I can remember. I loved it. It kept me from facing my problems, my feelings and the other unsavory bits that come with being human, those that are easier to sweep under the rug. So I buried them with what I thought would make me happy and whole. It worked quite well, keeping issues at bay just as long as needed until the next distraction came along. Then, I arrived in Madrid.

Being a part of a less close university community, having more free time and seemingly endless options surprised me in how much it terrified me. For the first time since starting university I faced silence. I was not bombarded with Student Interest Group obligations, copious amounts of studying or the ever warm distraction of the friends I’ve come to call family. I had none of my usual energy drains or energy outlets. I found myself truly looking in the mirror and wondering whether I am happy.

I had every reason to be happy, living in a city filled with a few of my favorite things: wine, parks and dancing. I couldn’t place what was bothering me so much. My anxiety began to mount, especially as I condemned myself for not appreciating Madrid to its fullest. A lot of memories and past issues resurfaced, ones I’d never dealt with, because I had been too busy chasing some form of success throughout high school and college. For the first time, I became aware of all the problems I’d buried, while consoling myself with another marker of perceived success.

I’ve always sought control through academics despite whatever happened in my personal life. School was the one thing I could count on and that I felt my energies could positively affect. So I became addicted to chasing academic and career success, believing that if I kept feeling these fleeting highs, I’d never truly slip into sadness. It seemed to work. People were always asking how I was so happy and successful, to which I’d nod and smile and feel like an utter impostor. I didn't feel like a success, I simply felt I was supposed to be successful. In reality, I was a kid with anxiety, the type that caused chronic unexplainable stomach pain and panic attacks. But I was seen as happy and doing well. I can’t blame anyone for not seeing a side of me that I even ignored myself. I remember one instance during spring semester of my freshman year that I said to a friend, “I can’t tell why I’ve been so down lately, I think it’s because I haven’t won anything in awhile.” In retrospect that statement feels shallow and shameful, but at the time it held gravity for me. I measured my self-worth in external validation and felt that it was normal and healthy. It felt good and gave me a sense of control, but only temporarily.

This wasn’t the first time my anxiety crept in undesired, despite my best efforts to keep it quelled with accolades. But every time I realized I needed help becoming happier on my own, there were excuses to give up. I tried to go to counseling last fall at NYU Abu Dhabi but was told that I could deal with my issues at any point, there was no rush. For someone who has always struggled with even bringing up sensitive topics, this was a perfect excuse to dismiss counseling as not for me. It was easy to do given that I’d always prioritized homework and internships over my mental health, and so I went back to my old routine feeling anxious and alone but resigned to my fate.

In Madrid, I struggled to establish this sense of control. Classes were less engaging and challenging, I didn’t have my usual support system around me. I needed to create my own meaning. But I realized I didn’t really know how to with no concrete academic or career goals ahead. The thoughts that caused my anxiety grew stronger and stronger. I withdrew from everything, literally even withdrawing from a class. Finally, I was trying to give myself space to figure out what was wrong with me. It didn’t go very well. I skipped entire days of my internship and school, staying in bed or crying unexpectedly when people asked me if I was okay. I didn’t feel okay. I was facing my emotions for the first time and it was terrifying.

At the advice of a much appreciated friend, I decided to see the NYU Madrid counselor. I couldn’t be more grateful that I did. Though it was extremely difficult to open up at first, I learned quickly just how many things I’d never dealt with and how healing it could happen through opening up and processing things out loud. The experience made me wish that I’d tried harder to pursue counseling earlier or even talked more with friends about what I was going through, so that it wouldn’t have gotten to this point in which I broke down all at once.

Existing in a world that privileges smart people over happy or emotionally stable people can make it difficult to prioritize mental health. Now that I’ve begun this work, I realize how much there is to do. I’ve decided to take a summer off to be close to my family and friends and continue counselling and truly relax for the first time in as long as I can remember. Of course, I hope to maintain my drive or ambition, but I truly believe that I can be much more balanced and also effective professionally if my mental health is in check. For me, success will be going back to school in the fall feeling rested and excited to take on new challenges, rather than adding a line to my CV.

It’s amazing that the discussion around mental health, that James Smoley called for in his October 2015 article, is growing at NYUAD. I am grateful for a community which makes me feel safe writing this essay. I think that we need to maintain dialogue concerning mental health, engage with it and also turn it inwards. Everyone is happy to listen to a friend when they go through something, but do you feel comfortable asking a friend to listen to you? Are you willing to tell your friends how you feel? We are lucky to have mental health resources and staff and groups, like REACH that really care. When I return to Saadiyat, I hope to take better advantage of the resources available, keeping in mind that my mental health is always worth the time, and there is strength rather than weakness in asking for help.

I don’t think that my experience is ubiquitous, but in a community that is as hyper-ambitious as NYUAD, prioritizing academic or career success over all else can be hard to avoid at times. I have spoken with peers who express similar concerns, regardless of whether it’s mental or physical or emotional health that they struggle with making time and energy for. We all need to keep in mind that success will neither be complete, nor more than precarious without these other factors. We need to support each other as a community. This can not be accomplished by reminding one another that we are OK, or even better than OK, because we are “happy and successful.” This attitude only squeezes entire people into small, opaque boxes that are constraining and actually damaging. It is important to genuinely try and see what we need from one another, and ultimately what we need from ourselves.