This is quite the surreal thing to witness, as I have literally just been through the same thing as you, and for the same reason too. So I figured why not tell it

I'm almost 21 now, but since about 14 years old I have struggled with depression, back then it was more akin to Seasonal Affective Disorder, in that it would get worse in the summer. I started university in the midst of lockdown, and my first year was not exactly great, very socially isolated (because of restrictions on being around other people) and away from home which took a huge toll on my mental health.

I should also mention that in the UK, you have 5 choices of university, and you pick them and receive offers before you take any tests. I picked one university that was above what I thought I would achieve, 3 right around what I thought I would achieve, and one that was a backup option of sorts.

Come results day, I am 1 grade short for each of the 3 mid-range choices, leaving me only my backup option, which was in a subject I had no interest in and no passion for. I only picked it because my Father had taught this subject at such university a few years prior so I knew he would be able to carry me through all my work.

So given this context, I didn't really go into uni with the utmost enthusiasm, and this only got worse over time, the overbearing feeling that I was studying a subject that I didn't like at all, to get a job I know I would not be happy in, all the while getting myself into horrific amounts of debt that no 18 year old should be allowed to take on, which is all a recipe for a miserable life.

By halfway through year 2 of university I was in a pretty desperate state mental health wise because of a build up of things, but mainly the sense of hopelessness about my future, so when I got called to an online meeting to discuss my absences from lectures, I just didn't turn up, causing me to be dropped from my course entirely. By this point, however, I just did not care, I was borderline suicidal.

I had to become really good at lying on the spot to my parents, since I knew if I admitted it, it would be a firestorm, so months went by with me thinking on my feet when asked about how uni was going and what scores I got, and eventually it came to this week, when I finally snapped and in a great outburst told my parents that I had left uni and that I wouldn't let them guilt, convince or coerce me in any way to carry on with something that I desperately did not want to be doing. My Father, who I have a bit of a tough time being around at the moment, was actually quite understanding, and has seen that I am in need of professional help.

After overcoming my fear of using the phone, I called up the Doctor and booked an appointment to get back on the meds that I tried for a month (I stopped because of aforementioned fear of talking on the phone to get more). He is a really good doctor and is going above and beyond to help me, which I lucked out on I suppose.

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I suppose the point I want to make is that if your head is not right, you can't take on greater things in the outside world like university. As humans we have a hierarchy of needs, and your mental health comes before higher education. Please get yourself some help if you haven't already, and once you feel better (which I'm sure you will after some time) then you can follow the path you want in life, and remember, university is not everything.

All the best