Cloaked in a black hood, I crept into the darkness searching for a spot that would allow me to drain out the valve of despair seeping the life out my soul. The orchestra of chaos bursting inside my head could no longer silenced by the semblance of normalcy my words expressed.
Until that point, my cheeks had never felt tears stream with sheer intensity. Struggling socially and academically, I had hit rock bottom 7 months into my LUMS journey.
Suddenly, I sensed movement in the corner adjacent to mine. At first, my heart pounded—have I been exposed in a state of extreme vulnerability?
However, a few moments later, a deeper concern struck me: How many other people drowned in the abyss of despair at 3am on a Tuesday?
I clearly wasn’t alone seeking refuge in the dark corners of this prestigious institution.
Adjusting to life in an alien environment can be difficult and the environment at LUMS is far from perfect. A simple visit to the page Help@LUMS will acquaint you with the quantitative severity of mental issues we as a community face.
Apart from the heightened academic competition, a simmering pressure to fit in dominates the social scene. Sitting at the Khokha or having a meal all by yourself can be intimidating. Add social anxiety to the equation and you’ll have trouble finding decent company.
When your bedroom and classroom coexist in the same vicinity, the personal gets entangled with other aspects of your life. Your academic performance might suffer, causing irrevocable damage. Substance abuse is another wormhole you might become susceptible to. This paves the way for mental instability that might linger beyond the duration of your degree.
Despite hailing to be among the most progressive institutions in Pakistan, LUMS fails to prioritize the mental health of its student body.
A mere number of two psychologists cater to the needs of thousands of students. To make matters worse, the repute of these psychologists is embroiled in controversy; several students have complained a breach of confidentiality.
The administration itself is infamous for fostering an apathetic attitude towards the students, viewing individual concerns with a glare of cynicism. This issue was particularly highlighted in the inquiry report drafted after the tragic suicide of a former student.
The report stated, “The Committee repeatedly heard from students how OSA staff, whom students approached during a crisis, treated them without the empathy that the situation called for. The Committee heard examples of students berated after the death of a parent, students being threatened with removal of financial aid, or students chastised for their physical appearances or put down for their class background. While it was beyond the Committee’s ability to triangulate each of these claims, these accounts do fit a pattern of behavior between students and OSA staff that has long been noted by both students and faculty.”
But the aspect that pierces my heart deeply is the veil of stigma shrouding mental health as a serious issue in the minds of the collective majority. During a Psychology at LUMS event, my efforts at raising mental health awareness at the Khokha were met with chuckles of ignorance and derision.
A mountain of change stands in the way of mental health becoming a priority. However, until we begin the arduous process of incorporating long-term solutions into the administrative framework, I believe an impact can be made informally.
Amid the ensuing bleakness, I believe the onus falls on us— ones who have preserved through the turbulence of the early LUMS experience—to help the young freshman and sophomores or anyone still treading in the darkness.
Our help might not be enough or a long-term solution, but I cannot remain passive knowing my fellow colleagues wrestle the same anguish as I did.
So, I urge you to proactively try to make your colleagues feel more inclusive.
I urge you to give advice to that young, shy freshman regarding their aspirations in your society.
Help them correct their technique at the gym.
Strike up a conversation when you spot them at the Khokha.
Sit with them at PDC if they don’t mind company.
Ask them why they have trouble speaking up in class (assuming you are the TA).
This obviously doesn’t solve the deeper problem. In the meanwhile, this should not deplete your will to look towards a better future. You would be surprised how often the little things go a long way in making someone feel home.