I’m finishing Cornell and after four years, I’ve done a lot. Eight straight semesters and decent grades. I’ve toughened up. If it’s not only the academic pressures, it’s also the laundry list of undergraduate traumas — homesickness, culture shock, isolation, inadequacy, tumultuous relationships, spots of depression and weight gain. Been there, done that. I actually managed them fairly well, with the help of family, old friends and school friends. Unfortunately, there were other times when I needed more support.

In my junior and senior year, I nearly lost loved ones to sudden and serious illnesses. I could not help but be very involved in both incidents, particularly the second one, which caused me to fall behind on a week’s work and miss important deadlines. Catching up and explaining myself, when the semester was in full steam, was a nightmare. In the following weeks, I had severe mood swings, was depressed and slept constantly. At this point, I decided to call CAPS (Counseling and Psychological Services). I was interviewed on the phone and later told that there were no appointments available for three weeks (they may have been particularly busy in early October), but they directed me towards a local “community health resource,” Family and Children’s Services. I visited a therapist for the first time in my life. Unfortunately, after a few sessions, I felt the visits were unnecessary and asked my mother to visit instead, which worked wonders and gave me the push I needed for the final weeks of school. Heavy stuff, huh?

Because of Cornell’s size and competitive academic culture, it is important that there is support available to students. However, because of Cornell’s size and competitive academic culture, students are not receiving support when they should. With a population of thousands, it is impossible to accommodate the needs of every student. The drive of the Cornell student makes them very, very reluctant to admit to “weakness” and get the help they might need. It’s a big, bad vicious cycle.

Despite stepping to the plate and asking for help, I did not really get the support I needed from Cornell or CAPS. Perhaps, I was unlucky and didn’t click with my counselor. Perhaps, I should have tried harder, been a little more patient. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have been insistent on a short-term solution and accepted the principle of therapy, which needs time in order to be effective. I do not know.

I am sure that CAPS has helped many people, but there is more to be done.

I understand that accommodating the Cornell community is a momentous task and I can hardly offer suggestions in terms of CAPS’ makeup and structure, but I do know there is an information gap. Not only was I surprised to discover on the website that they had counselors that specialized in all sorts of areas, but they had walk-in services all over campus. Beyond that, many people do not know what it means to be mentally unhealthy. This ranges from students in crisis to students who are simply stressed. The dated pamphlets are only available at Gannett. I only discovered the website a few days ago, when researching for the column. Most of my knowledge on mental health comes from quizzes in cheery, gung-ho women’s magazines.

It may be because I live in Collegetown, where there are no Residential Advisors or posters on every door advertising mental health services. Other than the flu visit to Gannett, a cursory glance at the advertisement in my planner, my fuzzy memory of posters and flyers from freshman year were the only way I knew about CAPS. There are thousands of Cornell students living in Collegetown that should have this information on hand. Not only information about the where and what of CAPS, but about basic mental health issues, enabling all students to identify any problems more readily.

There is one simple suggestion I can offer — a mailing list. Pamphlets in our dilapidated off-campus mailboxes will give us something to stash in our desk. E-mail is better, though: students live through it, checking it any moment they can. We already receive a monthly one from the Career Services Center (stressful!), why not a mental health awareness bulletin? With some CAPS-approved reading, perhaps a little mini-test or two. It needn’t be alarmist or overlong, but brief and friendly. It would increase a sense of involvement, accessibility and also bolster students’ grasp of their own mental wellbeing. Most importantly, it would give these issues more visibility, reduce stigma and encourage compassion, which President Skorton has been admirably vouching for in recent speeches and writing, especially concerning mental health.

All in all, there is no doubt that ours is a demanding school. Some people can handle it fine, others cannot. Sometimes shit happens. Remember that little quip you read in college ranking literature? “Cornell is the easiest Ivy to get into, but the hardest to graduate from.” It’s true. However, life after school is also demanding. Only when you underperform, the consequences are a little more drastic. It’s important to incorporate a mindful, empathetic posture towards mental health at Cornell, so we may be successful in many more ways than one.

Erin Geld is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be reached at esg24@cornell.edu. The Sampling appears alternate Wednesdays.