Sitting in a doctor’s office on a cold, grim day in January 2015, I remember trying to keep it together as I explained how completely miserable and lost I felt. It had been months since I graduated, and, despite having several job interviews, I was getting nowhere. Again and again, I’d been told I didn’t have enough experience or that I was too shy.
“I feel like a failure,” I told the doctor – a common symptom of depression. It didn’t help that I felt like a burden on my Dad for continuing to live at home – I helped around the house to earn my keep but other than that couldn’t afford to pay rent.
I was never formally diagnosed with depression, but some of the symptoms were definitely affecting me, especially in the long winter months I spent jobless, lonely and skint. It didn’t help that my boyfriend was abroad at the time, traveling for several months in Canada and the US. I missed him and would have loved to have joined him but simply couldn’t afford to. Instead, I was stuck, needing a job and struggling to get one, despite the fact I graduated from a good UK university with an impressive degree.



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