I fell absolutely and completely in love with Cambridge. I made incredible friends, in and out of college. I got a boyfriend. I became involved in theatre and rowing. But less than nine months later I found myself thinking ‘I don’t think I can do this again next year’. It truly felt as if exams had killed my energy and passion. I no longer wanted to learn about the things that I had spent the previous summer reading about out of pure interest and excitement; I just wanted to pass the exams.

At the beginning of the academic year it felt like my life had suddenly been enriched by opportunity, both academically and otherwise. This term, I went from being involved in five shows in Lent to none, from going out three times a week to getting up at 7am to start revision. However, I was determined to tackle exam term in a healthy way. The pre-GCSE sobbing breakdown I experienced before my first exam four years ago was not to be repeated. I think I did end up breaking down, but not in a dramatic way. I didn’t have to see my tutor, I didn’t have to get my mum to make an emergency trip to Cambridge, but when I looked in the mirror a few minutes before going in for my ninth exam of the week, I couldn’t help but feel a bit broken. Looking at the people around me, both known and unknown, I wondered what these exams were actually testing: acquisition and interpretation of knowledge, or merely the ability to keep going.

I generally consider myself quite a strong person. I’m quite good at taking ‘mental health days’ and I try to keep things in perspective while caught in the Cambridge bubble. But I don’t think I’ve ever cried as much as I did the week before exams started. I was exhausted, I missed my friends, I missed having lie-ins and watching Netflix. I missed not constantly being terrified of failure. Before coming to Cambridge, the question was never whether I would do well, but how well I would do. Now, it felt like it was all about coping. And I know I am definitely not alone in feeling this way. So, what can practically be done to deal with this?

The Cambridge Student reported in 2015 that an average of 2.7 per cent of all undergraduates intermit (based on statistics from 2012-2015). St Edmund’s had the highest percentage, with 10.5 per cent of the student body intermitting. Aside from the mature colleges, the highest intermittence rate is Girton with 4.18 per cent. This means that more than one in every 25 students will intermit. Although, of course, people do intermit for reasons apart from mental health, it is shocking to think when examining these statistics that intermission is only considered as an option for students who are unable to continue their studies. How many students are struggling silently, and still sitting exams and dealing with ‘regular’ Cambridge stress while suffering?

Personally, I don’t have a mental health issue, and I don’t want to leave Cambridge. I don’t think taking time away (other than a needed long vacation) will significantly help anything. So what about the students that stay in Cambridge? This academic year 89 students (out of first-, second- and third-years) had special examination arrangements due to anxiety/ depression/ OCD/ unspecified mental health issues. This was lower than the previous two years (186 and 146 respectively). This is a tiny percentage, especially compared to those that intermit. This isn’t surprising as it seems to me that having extra time in an exam is probably not going to significantly help when mental illness has hindered effective revision throughout the year. The fact is that people with mental health issues don’t do as well in exams (22.2 per cent of non-disabled students get a First; however, only 16.3 per cent of those with mental health conditions do). As I said earlier, I don’t have a mental health problem, but like many I struggled with exam term and the repercussions of everyone around me being stressed and struggling as well.

To me it is not enough to simply say, “this is Cambridge, it is going to be stressful”, or “you knew what you were signing up for when you accepted your offer”, because I really didn’t. I didn’t know what it would feel like to sit 10 exams, nine of which were on five consecutive days. I didn’t know what it would feel like to get a pessimistic supervision report and be told I’m not quite up to standard.

Cambridge, I know I could leave you, but I don’t want to. However, I think Cambridge does have to change to be better for me. The support is there for when it gets really bad, but we can’t just dismiss the struggles of those who don’t have a diagnosed mental health condition, and we can’t assume that this is how it has to be because ‘Cambridge is Cambridge’. I’m not sure what can or should be done, but the university has a moral obligation to do something.

The problem is there in the statistics. The problem glares back at us: anyone can see that there’s an issue, that things can easily escalate. We talk about it all the time, we campaign, we write articles on it. My question is, what will change for next year?