When Mental Health Becomes A Waiting Game

With the recent passing of two students on our campus, the conversation surrounding mental health has become an urgent, central concern for the entire StFX community. There is never a wrong time to check in on your friends, family, and peers to ensure they are doing okay. Having personally experienced the devastating loss of people to suicide, I know firsthand that a simple text message, an intentional act of effort to show you care, or physically showing up for even a few minutes of the day, can truly save a life. It really is that simple. Mental health is one of the most prominent defining challenges of our generation, affecting each of us in distinct ways. The person walking beside you across campus might be quietly battling severe depression, while the person sitting in front of you in class is paralyzed by test anxiety. Distress looks different on everyone, and you shouldn’t need an official medical diagnosis to deserve immediate, compassionate treatment and structural support. 

While the university's new student booking portal promises a direct path to care, the reality leaves vulnerable students waiting days or weeks for basic support—and in a mental health crisis, waiting weeks means a life could already be lost. Time is our most critical asset, yet as a university faculty and student body, we are trapped in a constant, breathless rush. We push ourselves to do things faster and maximize performance, completely forgetting that we are only human. In this aggressive drive for institutional efficiency, we are actively losing our sense of human purpose. 

The administration pitches the "One at a Time" (OAAT) single-session booking model as a system that leaves more time on your hands by offering same-day appointments. Instead, it just forces the care itself to become completely rushed. The barrier to entry is deeply stressful: because same-day slots open strictly at 7:30 AM AST, students must wake up early and aggressively refresh the Pomelo portal to compete against their peers for a severely restricted number of spots. Navigating a high-stakes, rapid-fire booking system while experiencing acute depression, severe anxiety, exhausting insomnia, and any other mental illness or problem creates an immense mental toll. If you miss that fleeting, multi-minute window, you are left entirely empty-handed and forced to repeat the stressful cycle the following morning. Once you finally secure a spot, the rushing doesn't stop; you are forced to frantically summarize your deepest struggles before the clock runs out. 

Healing is not a linear line. Mental healthcare cannot be reduced to a mechanical sequence: book an appointment, state what is wrong, receive a written note of instructions, and get pushed out the door with an "okay, bye, you're good now, book again soon." Students need genuine, sustained help and continuous support. We need a system where a person can speak their mind without checking the clock every five minutes just to ensure they can finish a sentence. Students deserve doctors and mental health practitioners who listen because they care, not bureaucrats who remind you that their next client arrives in fifteen minutes. 

The institutional focus on management over well-being becomes even clearer when looking at the financial penalties. StFX charges a strict $50.00 late cancellation and no-show fee billed directly to student accounts. The fundamental flaw in this rule is a massive contradiction: the clinic mandates a 24-hour notice to cancel without penalty, but because OAAT is explicitly a same-day or next-day system, most students book their appointments less than 24 hours before they occur. If you secure a slot during the 7:30 AM rush for that very afternoon and realize a few hours later that you cannot make it, it is physically impossible to give a 24-hour notice. You are automatically trapped in a $50 fine.  

Things are bound to come up, and situations that feel far more urgent than a mental health clinical appointment inevitably arise, preventing students from attending. It is the responsibility of those providing these resources to emphasize that mental health must take top priority. It should never be a choice between completing an assignment or getting help for what you are dealing with. Accessing support quickly should be normalized, and equitable opportunities to do so must be granted to everyone. 

The school needs to take it upon itself to fix the narrative around mental health, ensuring it becomes a priority over simply getting things done. You cannot expect students not to use AI or take the easy way out when they are physically drained and have no help at all—or when the help provided is completely inaccessible, or when they are fifty dollars more broke because an assignment is due or they have to study for a quiz later, with no energy left in them. 

Compounding this, the automated portal fails to send text or email reminders before this penalty window closes, which unfairly punishes all students seeking help. At what point do we demand to know why students are forced to pay a financial cost for their own suffering? If a student cannot make it to an appointment, there is a high probability that their absence is directly caused by the disabling weight of their mental health issues. Fining them for that vulnerability is cruel. This approach squashes student expectations and sets the institutional bar even lower than it was before. 

When students raised serious concerns regarding the mental health intake system, the administrative responses we received felt defensive and dismissive. Rather than addressing our immediate well-being, the communication focused heavily on internal operational logic, asking students to wait patiently while a new, experimental framework is trialed. While we recognize that no system is entirely flawless, student safety should never be treated as a trial-and-error experiment. Transforming mental health care into a waiting game creates an artificial competition for resources, resulting in a dangerous environment for those in crisis. If the current institutional framework cannot meet demand, we must collectively build immediate, alternative pathways to ensure no student is left without support.  

When mental health care is structured this way, it inevitably becomes a toxic competition over whose well-being is more important, reduced to who can click a button the fastest to secure a slot. Choosing to 'wait and see' how an experimental framework performs—despite students explicitly stating they are in distress—actively isolates those who are already struggling. By creating artificial barriers to entry, the institution effectively abandons vulnerable students at their lowest moments. A universal framework that provides immediate, equitable access to support for all students is entirely possible, and it must be implemented without delay. 

This total disregard for human grief was mirrored perfectly in the recent administration email declaring that classes will continue "as per usual" this week. In a time of profound community loss and collective trauma, there is no arbitrary time limit on grief. Losing a peer—whether a close friend, a classmate you shared a table with, or simply a familiar face you passed on campus—is a significant loss. Those quiet, everyday interactions form the fabric of your daily routine and your sense of community. When someone passes away, that fabric changes, and it takes time to process the emptiness left behind. It certainly takes longer than a few days to process that. Furthermore, if you need to step away from classes this week to protect your well-being, that is okay. The administration's rigid insistence on keeping business moving as usual exposes a rigged system. It is a structure that actively prioritizes corporate efficiency and calendar management long before it ever focuses on student well-being, proper care, and basic human empathy.  

An ideal system allows students to get help exactly when they need it, speak for as long as they require, and feel completely safe opening up about the heavy emotions impacting their mental health. While time will tell how the university's new framework ultimately performs, we cannot ignore those who are currently being left behind. For the students who can’t get an appointment right away, those who are forced to struggle through their personal troubles on a waitlist, those who feel too uncomfortable or anxious to use the official system, immediate support is still available, or those who physically cannot go to classes this week; Here are ways you can get help you deserve.  

Healthy Minds Nova Scotia is a province-wide initiative, composed of free online mental health resources specifically funded for university students. It includes services like Good2Talk for 24/7 crisis counselling and Togetherall for anonymous peer support forums. Because it is an external, online network, it allows students to bypass the university's physical clinics entirely and find professional or peer help on their own terms, without anything being reported back to the StFX administration. 

The Bloomfield Hub (Flourish@X) is a relaxed, substance-free hangout space located on the second floor of the Bloomfield Centre. It is open from Wednesday through Saturday evenings. It is intentionally designed to feel casual and comfortable rather than clinical, giving students a safe physical space to leave their dorm rooms, reduce stress, play board games, and connect with other peers on campus during the weekend. 

The Diversity Engagement Centre (DEC) is located on the fourth floor of the Bloomfield Centre. It acts as an identity-affirming sanctuary on campus, providing dedicated peer networks, safe spaces, and culturally specific support pathways. It is specifically designed to meet the unique needs and comfort levels of Indigenous students, Black students, and students of African descent, offering community connection free from institutional barriers.   

For those who wish to seek forms of coping outside of the clinical kind, another powerful way to cope is simply to change your environment. Leaving your room—getting out of your dorm, going for a walk, getting some fresh air, and listening to your favourite music—is one of the healthiest things you can do. If walking and music don’t appeal to you the way they do to me, find something else that keeps you grounded and motivated. Cook your favourite comfort food, or put on a show that makes you feel safe. 

Trying something new can also create a helpful shift in your mindset. It can be as simple as going to the gym, exploring a different walking path, ordering something completely new off the menu at your go-to local café, or reading a book on something unknown to you. I know finding new things to do can feel a bit challenging in a small town like Antigonish, but it is absolutely possible. 

If you are struggling to remember the small, beautiful parts of life right now, a friend of mine, Gabby Scollard, has written incredible books on mental health. She writes about the little, everyday things we often overlook, reminding us why staying alive is worth it. Her book, Why I Stay, helped me during times when I felt at my all-time lowest, and it has done the same for many others. Her words are a gentle reminder that even in a damaged world, we are not alone, and we still have the power to build a life of our own. It’s exactly the kind of reassurance your heart and mind need to hear after a long, exhausting day—or after weeks and months of dealing with heavy struggles. Her books are available on Amazon and can also be found on Kindle, and they are absolutely worth a read if you think they might help you. 

In  moments when academic pressure builds up and you feel like you can't study, remember that once the work is put in, it's done. You don't have to keep pushing yourself to the point of breaking. Once you’ve done what you can, you have conquered the task. You are actively building your future, and you are not letting your struggles tear you down. On the days when you physically cannot get out of bed, please know that it is completely okay to rest. Send a quick note to your professors to stay in touch, and reach out to a friend. Ask them to come over and just sit with you if socializing helps. You don’t have to carry this isolation by yourself. And if you ever find yourself facing dark, overwhelming, or suicidal thoughts, please do not stay alone with them—reach out, text a friend, or call a crisis support line right away.  

Suicide Crisis Helpline: CALL OR TEXT 988 

Nova Scotia Mental Health Crisis Line: CALL 1-888-429-8167 

Kids Help Phone: CALL: 1-800-668-6868 ; Text: CONNECT to 686868 

Hope for Wellness Helpline (For Indigenous peoples) CALL: 1-855-242-3310 

211 Nova Scotia (Community and social services navigation) CALL: 211 

811 HealthLink Nova Scotia (Non-emergency medical advice from registered nurses) CALL: 811 

It is so important to remember that no matter what, you are never alone. Even when the resources available are not a perfect fit for everyone, we are in a time where everyone needs extra support, love, and care—especially while trying to balance school and the weight of the world right now. We need to understand that we are all dealing with this together. 

Be kind to those around you. Compliment something someone is wearing, or tell a stranger something you noticed about them that might make them smile. Ask your classmates to study together, or go grab a coffee with someone you love. Remind the people in your life of the impact they have on you. It is those little acts of kindness that truly help, bringing a sense of unity and the understanding that we are all in this together. Don’t let fear or embarrassment get in the way of being a good person in times like this. 

Time, to some, may be about getting as much done as possible in a specific time frame—checking boxes, meeting deadlines, and keeping a broken system moving. But mental health cannot be treated like that. For something this serious, care shouldn't be rushed, and it should never be treated as secondary. Your well-being matters far more than an assignment deadline, and it is now that our institution needs to start reflecting that truth. Until they do, it is so important that we go easy on one another through these difficult times. We must actively treat our peers with respect, care, and kindness, so that even in our darkest moments, we are reminded of the good around us—the things that keep us going, and keep us alive. 

And remember reaching out, going to these places, or making that phone call isn't something to be embarrassed about—it’s human. Taking care of your mind and doing what you need to do to survive is the strongest thing you can do.