Have you ever been in a situation where nothing you do feels right? Whether the studies or your work. Or you maybe know someone else who has been feeling that everything they do is in a way wrong? How does that look like? Not so nice, I would say.

This is, according to some studies, how an average student or young researcher feels, very often. We are all aware of the fact that many people around us at universities do not feel well every day. Over the past 10 years, I’ve been working at the three universities in Vienna – MedUni, BOKU and Vetmed. And unfortunately, during that time I’ve met many young scientists and PhD students who have one or another problem with mental health. In each case a reason for that has been study or work related. Me, myself, can also say that in the past few years I’ve had gone through the psychotherapy. Again, the reason was work related. Over time, I started asking myself why is that happening? Is it possible that this was somehow common for academia?

Yes, it is well known that millions of people world wild is affected by mental health concerns each year. According to some studies, one in five adults experience mental health illness each year. The same authors say that 50% all lifetime mental illness begins by age of 14, and 75% by age of 24. Research on mental health in academia consistently highlights worrying trends and challenges within the academic environment. A large international survey, with 2,279 participants from 26 countries and 234 institutions, published a few years ago in Nature Biotechnology found that graduate students face significantly higher rates of depression and anxiety than the general population. In Belgium, a study involving over 3,600 Ph.D. students revealed that this group experiences mental health challenges far more frequently than other highly educated professionals.

Despite growing awareness, mental health remains a difficult topic to address. Speaking openly about it still requires courage, as struggles are frequently misinterpreted as weakness or lack of discipline. Within academia and science, this stigma can be even more pronounced, where persistence is often idealized and vulnerability dismissed.

It’s striking how differently we treat mental and physical illnesses. Talking openly about cancer often feels easier than mentioning depression. Even though according to some predictions, by the year 2030 it is predicted that it will take the leading place among global diseases. That silence is what makes mental health struggles an invisible crisis — one that continues to grow, even though only a fraction of those affected receive the help they need.

We need to ask ourselves — why is this happening? What lies behind such a troubling picture? It’s no secret that academia often comes with an overwhelming workload, strict externally imposed deadlines, competition for funding and positions, and uncertain career prospects. Combined with the constant pressure to prove ourselves in a highly competitive environment, it can easily become a lonely place. And when loneliness takes over, it’s easy to lose direction, motivation, and sometimes even a sense of purpose. Many students and early-career researchers also describe experiencing poor management practices, along with a lack of recognition and reward for their work. When I talk about my PhD supervisors to anyone from academia, I usually hear: “That’s a unicorn.” Nevertheless, I choose to believe there are more such unicorns out there — both in academia and beyond.

All of this is why I decided to write about mental health in general, but in particular in academia. Research shows that close, supportive relationships at work can make a real difference — a sense of belonging and positive connections with colleagues are strong predictors of wellbeing. But beyond what the data says, I know this from experience too. It’s simply easier when you feel that you’re not alone — when there’s someone to listen, to understand, or just to share a quiet moment with. We all have a deep human need to belong. As I once heard beautifully put — in the past, if you didn’t belong to a group, you were eaten, bitten, or starved. Belonging meant survival. And in many ways, it still does.

So, I’m writing this blog to reach out to those walking a similar path — to let you know that you’re not alone, and that maybe, through these words, you can find a bit of recognition, comfort, or strength to keep going.