My sister suffered with depression since she was about fourteen; it worsened when she was in her first term at university and she was terrifyingly ill, in much the way you've described. So I've always been, or thought myself, quite familiar with the symptoms.

What I wasn't prepared for was what happened to me, which was that in the second term of my second year, I just lost track of myself. I couldn't go to hall without having a panic attack, couldn't and wouldn't eat if I was on my own, and would ideally have spent most of my time cowering under my boyfriend's desk. I felt like someone had replaced my body with that of a stranger, and it was as though I was utterly disconnected, in a terrifying way, with everything happening around me. Catching sight of myself in the mirror made me feel sick and angry, and anything that reminded me that I was alive, that I existed, brought on a horrible feeling of hollow and uncontrollable terror. I was lucky that I have not only an incredibly supportive boyfriend but also friends who are wonderful – even that didn't stop things worsening, and I only went to the doctor after a suicide attempt.

My college nurse, sadly, was really worse than useless; when I went to see her she barely listened to my own attempts to communicate, preferring to make her own assumptions and treating me like a wayward child. My tutor, on the other hand was amazing, very supportive and listened very carefully as I tried to explain the situation.

Cambridge could do a lot to ensure that its support structures are unified and work well for everyone – the patchy support available at the moment isn't enough.