At the start of September, with my 22-year-old Mini Cooper bursting with bags and boxes, I waved goodbye to my childhood as my Mum and I began the three hour adventure South, to my new home for the school year. After what had felt like the longest year of my life yet, the wait was finally over: I was off to University.

Now, only two months later, I’m sitting at my warm, cluttered writing bureau with Rosie, our family’s cockapoo, curled up in bed beside me after receiving the email confirming my withdrawal from the course.

Making me officially a university drop-out.

I’m not ashamed of that statement.

In fact, I plan on wearing it as a badge of honour.

There is still some stigma attached to the idea of dropping out - even I myself wrestled with the thought that I was somehow weak for ‘throwing the towel in early’. But, if anything, I feel stronger than before. On the other side of this experience, I know myself better, I understand my needs and values more deeply, I have a stronger plan for my future and I’m genuinely, butterfly-enducingly excited about whatever comes next.

A month ago I felt hollow.

I was living in a twisted reality where time slowed near to stopping point and everyday was spent wading through an ever-tightening fog. Despite the fact that I was woken up to the postcard-worthy view of a golden seaside sunrise, I was drowning in my own mind. Previous depressive thoughts came crashing down upon me and waves of apathy left me without any real sense of joy or fulfillment. Most days I would fight with my own brain to simply pull myself out of bed. I was an anxious mess.

I’m autistic, meaning that there is an added level of challenge to almost anything I do in life.

I was struggling immensely with the constant demands of living independently for the first time, at the same time as beginning undergraduate-level study. The weight of eating, cooking, washing, cleaning up, studying, driving, shopping, socialising, planning, communicating… all on top of finding time for self-care, my business and my own personal hobbies flattened me to breaking point. And, although I found the subject engaging, I realised that I couldn’t see myself pursuing it further - leading me to look forwards with uncertainty and a lingering sense of dread.

I believe that it is key to mention here that my university experience was also incredibly untraditional. My campus itself comprised three small buildings: a lab and plant nursery, a design hub and a student hub/library/office hybrid. Since there were no halls, I was boarding in a stranger’s house, which brought issues of its own.

Ironically, I believed that studying on a smaller campus and living independently would have made my experience of higher education easier due a reduced sensory input and lower social demands - but, in reality, I was left feeling isolated and completely overwhelmed by my poor executive function which only amplified the mental health challenges I was facing.

After witnessing first-hand how rapidly my mental health had spiralled, I came home to be with family for a week, and, after many challenging conversations, vowed to give myself until reading week to make the ultimate decision.

Would it be safe to continue?

When that day eventually rolled around, I was more certain than ever that where I was wasn’t the right path for me. So, at the end of reading week, I built up the courage to press send on the definitive email to my tutor - subject: decision to withdraw.

It definitely wasn’t an easy choice to make, and I’m still left with a lingering feeling of grief for what could have been, but I’m so glad that I have done it. Since coming ‘home’ (did I fail to mention that my family also moved cities whilst I was away?) I feel as though I’m myself again.

As though I had been holding my breath for the past two months, and it’s only now that I’ve been able to resurface.

Psalm 107, illustrated: a verse that has helped to keep me afloat over these past few months.

So, what next?

I know that I would like to attempt university again, returning to study a subject that aligns closer with my passions and with the knowledge that I have gained from these past few months, but there is a lot of life to live in between now and then. Until that point, I hope to spend this impromptu gap year focusing on my mental wellbeing, working on ScribbleWhiskers, getting back into a writing habit and finding ways to push myself where I know I need to grow before going back into education.

Tips for others...

If you or someone you know is struggling with the change that university brings, you are not alone.

Feelings of homesickness, overwhelm and stress are almost inevitable when moving away on your own for the first time - but it’s also important to notice when an environment isn’t right for you. Reach out to others, talk about what you’re struggling with and get advice.

If you are considering withdrawing from wherever you are studying, make sure you have a plan B before you do! I knew that I would be able to come back and live with my family whilst reapplying for another course next year. I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity and stability to withdraw and make this choice - and I understand how privileged I am in this situation.

Secondly, it is important to wait a while (for me, this was only about 3-4 weeks) after you initially think about withdrawing, in order to give yourself time to reconsider and think through all possible options. You should also think about having a conversation with your university wellbeing service as well as your tutor in order to discuss any additional support or even a possibility of transferring courses internally if it’s just the subject that you aren’t enjoying.

Finally, you need to make sure you’re aware of the financial consequences of your decision. Since I left so early in the year, I only have to repay the first term of my student loan (encompassing both tuition fee and maintenance grant) when I begin earning enough. Whilst it’s important to give yourself enough time to think through your choice clearly, if you are 100% certain that you are going to drop out, it’s financially wise to withdraw sooner rather than later - just make sure you won’t regret it!

None of this is to say that I hated every second of my time at university. I met some wonderful people, explored the Cornish coast in the beauty of late-autumn and had the opportunity to immerse myself in a completely new subject at a world-class institution. Within just a month, I picked up so much rich information and was able to have some interesting conversations with industry-leading individuals. Most importantly, I learned a lot about what I need in order to live a happy life, information which I hold on to as I step into this next chapter. I struggle to find the words to express the gratitude that I feel for these gifts.

But, this time around, university wasn’t right for me, and that’s okay

It has been almost a year since my last post on this blog... yikes! 😅

Too often over these past few months I vowed to myself I’d get back into writing for this website, but I’m a little shocked at how quickly the digital cobwebs have piled up. 'I don’t have anything important to say,’ I’d tell myself, ‘I can’t find the time right now, maybe next month.’ What a load of nonsense!

Hopefully this time around I can make a more consistent commitment to this blog as I re-establish a writing habit and expand my content a little bit further. Although I will continue to discuss neurodiversity and wellbeing, I also want to share more about myself: my life, my thoughts and my passions.

If you find yourself equally enamoured by literature, wellbeing, slow living, history, and the creative practice, you will fit right in here.

Expect new blog posts soon - but don’t hold me to that!

In the meantime, keep up with what I’m doing over on my instagram:

@ScribbleWhiskers

Thanks for reading,

Owen @ ScribbleWhiskers

‘He made the storm be still, the waves of the sea were hushed'

PSALM 107