New York City, U.S.A. — As my time to return to Abu Dhabi draws near, it feels only right to reflect on why I left prematurely during my freshman spring and why, although I have missed NYU Abu Dhabi dearly, I have mixed feelings going back to the Middle East after a year and a half abroad.

I have been fairly silent about the reasons for my departure, but I was touched and inspired by James’ opinion article in The Gazelle. Aside from being a dear friend of mine, James is one of many students beginning, slowly and surely, to speak out against the state of mental health at NYUAD.

The practice of sending students home or to New York for treatment has become an endemic part of our university’s mental health strategy. Like James, I am one of several students who had to leave NYUAD when things became too much to handle — by force or by choice — to receive help that could not be provided on-site. Depending on the issue, this practice has been due either to a lack of resources on our small campus, or the legal limitations of living in the UAE.

In freshman year, my anorexia and depression reached a point where I became seriously worried about my health. Unable to receive the treatment I needed locally, I was put on the first flight home to Sydney, Australia. My summer was spent in and out of treatment, and resumed studies at NYU New York in the fall, where I would be able to pursue my studies and internships while benefitting from the extensive counseling and eating disorder resources available at the Washington Square campus. At the time, the decision made sense — we were a new campus with a small student body, and our small Wellness Centre could only offer so much.

Eighteen months on, things have changed. I’m healthier, happier and genuinely amused by how excited I am to have my period back. I can’t help but wonder: Has Abu Dhabi changed? And if not, do I feel comfortable going back?

The news from campus hasn’t got me feeling hopeful. The Health and Wellness Center is still chronically understaffed with one certified counselor and another awaiting a local license. We have no on-campus psychiatrist or nutritionist. Policies regarding sexual health and substance management, both inextricably tied to mental health, remain unclear, which is particularly dangerous at a campus where common forms of self-medication for untreated mental health issues are punishable by law. In Abu Dhabi, sex and alcohol are not just a short-term and destructive way of taking your mind off things — they could land you in jail.

Voicing my concerns in a student meeting with Dean of Students David Tinagero in New York last month, I was told that we currently do not have the demand needed to warrant taking on a full-time nutritionist or a psychiatrist. This attitude is dangerous on a number of levels, particularly in a small community of students under pressure to live up to the admissions office’s pitch to be “the world’s most talented students”.

In the end, we are just like college students at any highly selective university, and our high SAT scores do not suddenly impart us with the capacity to reason our way out of the toxic body image perpetuated by media today, nor the feelings of inadequacy, loneliness or confusion that most students will feel at some point in their college life.

If anything, possessing the traits of an academic — intense drive, sacrifice and calculation — only exacerbate one’s capacity to self-destruct quickly and efficiently while concealing it from oneself and others. Assuming that a problem does not exist because few have spoken out about it is staying blind to the fact that we are, for the most part, people who resent being labelled as weak or in need.

This is not simply an Abu Dhabi issue. In the United States, suicide rates for young people aged 15-24 have tripled since the 1950s, and college campuses are barely keeping up with the increase in demand for mental health support. However, students at NYUAD have been put at an even greater disadvantage due to the legal limitations on certain types of healthcare in the UAE.

I am lucky to be far enough in my recovery to know that I have a right to push for the assistance I need and to seek help in Abu Dhabi without the shame I once felt, but I cannot speak for the rest of my peers.

Seeking help is never easy, even with hundreds of specialists at your disposal and the level of awareness and support available in a city like New York. A few girls have come out to me about their own struggles with disordered eating, and I cannot help but worry when I hear groups in the dining hall discussing their plans to go carb-free, “just to try.”

What if they like what they see? What if they take it over the edge? What happens if they do not know where to look for help, let alone what to ask for? They will do like the rest of us who went home for our various reasons — they will push themselves to keep it together, until they can push no longer.

You might ask, isn’t it the same if you suffer from an untreated mental illness in New York? Not quite. When you need that urgent breath of fresh air, Abu Dhabi isn’t the easiest place to watch a great show, chat with a cute guy at the bar or walk past a crazy performance artist on the street that briefly takes you out of your own head. When things get bad in Abu Dhabi, they get bad fast. Of course, distractions are available if you look hard and put in the effort, but I know that at my worst, it was hard enough to get out of bed, let alone do the research, call a taxi and convince my overworked friends to join me on a spontaneous fun day.

I am happy and proud to hear that students are reacting to the current situation by forming their own student-run initiatives like the REACH peer support group. My friends have been my lifeblood in Abu Dhabi and there is no doubt that we have each other’s backs. However, our friends are not our therapists, and there is only so much we can rely on each other to make it through the tough times; that’s the work of trained professionals. We shouldn’t have to pile these issues on our loved ones and we shouldn’t have to feel like a burden on our school’s administration if we need extra medical help to lead a functional life.

People have asked me if I considered my health needs prior to accepting my place at NYUAD. All I can say is that nobody goes to their dream school with the intention of developing a life-threatening illness. It just happens, and you deal with it however you can. Or you don’t.

Moving forward, should we continue with our current medical policy of transferring certain students to New York to seek medical treatment? This is both costly and disruptive to their well-being and their studies, leaving students in an already fragile state feeling uncertain about their futures, detached from their home campus and panicked about the completion of their numerous academic requirements.

Alternatively, should prospective students be explicitly warned about the lack of support available in Abu Dhabi? “If you need [insert service], you are putting yourself at risk by coming here.” This policy risks creating an admissions procedure that explicitly discriminates against individuals with a certain medical history and is ignorant of the fact that many of these illnesses do not develop until the early twenties, by which time a student is admitted and it is too late to be turned away.

I feel ready to return, but I’m scared of relapse. I’m worried that I will no longer have the option to go back to New York. I only want to balance my studies and recovery in Abu Dhabi as I was able to at the Square, but I’m scared that nothing has changed.