Campus Depression

Sadly, the past few months here at Yeshiva have not been pleasant ones for me. Instead, they have been filled with anxiety, depression, and melancholy. I do not suffer from any mental illness and have not experienced any recent academic or romantic crises. Instead, these feelings stem from the high hopes I had about Yeshiva and the reality of my current situation.

Before my arrival at this institution, I lived in Silver Spring, MD. There were approximately 500-600 Orthodox families in the community; however, the small demographic always limited my ability to experience a true Jewish social scene. I was very close with all of my classmates and we would always reminisce about the wonderful and funny stories that took place in our community. The nostalgic moments range from great pranks pulled on teachers to incredible football games in the snow, yet all these fabulous times with my friends only seemed like small events on the radar screen. I was interested in jumping into the abyss I referred to as "the big picture."

Now, many may find my cravings absurd. I had great friends and great stories, and should have been thankful for being granted such a wonderful life. The truth is I am thankful for all that God granted me at that particular point in my life. However, living in a small community, I was subject to many educational deficiencies brought on by lack of monetary support for our Jewish day school. This, of course, hindered religious growth and required me to spend many hours participating in night seders and shiurim offered in nearby cities. I was eventually able to leave my small community and join a strong group of talmidim in Yeshivat Har Etzion. I was even lucky enough to become enriched by the amazing derech halimmud of a tremendous talmid of the Rav and one of the leaders of Torah u-Madda today, haRav Aharon Lichtenstein. After concluding a strong year of learning, I decided to enroll in Yeshiva University.

Elation is the only word I can use to describe my feelings as I rode up with my parents to Yeshiva for orientation. I was very excited to finally join the prestigious and historical institution and at the same time be swept into my first major Jewish social scene. I was already dreaming of befriending a diverse group of students at Yeshiva. I could go into New York with these "friends" and experience the New York life. I could even potentially find a Jewish girl different from the ones that lived in the city I left (not to disparage Silver Spring girls, of course).

Orientation included many night activities, such as a tour of Madame Tussaud's and a trip to Six Flags; however, I could not attend either of these events due to an intense night seder with my chavruta, a student in the Torah Honors program. Despite the fact that I missed the first few major social events, the thoughts of fantastic social scenes did not disappear, and I was still hoping for some free time to open up in my intense schedule. After four weeks of nonstop work, consisting of shiur in MYP, honors classes in YC, and keeping up with the Torah Honors night-learning schedule, my hopes had become pipe dreams. I began to rationalize my schedule as the "right" path; the true derech of Torah u-Madda. Did the Torah u-Madda derech really have no room for social activities? Is this what Hashem wanted of me? Throughout the entire semester, these "semi-dangerous" thoughts constantly surged in and out of my mind, leaving me depressed with my decision to study at Yeshiva. I began to see almost no difference between my previous social situation in Maryland and the one I was experiencing at Yeshiva.

After completing my first semester and spending some time over break thinking about whether or not my Yeshiva experience was worthwhile, I concluded two things. First, I felt a bit disappointed at not encountering the social scene I had always looked forward to; however, I was pleased with myself, seeing that I had achieved many tough goals over the semester. I was able to maintain my secular studies and succeed, as well as keep up with multiple sugyot soaring through my mind every single day and night. One as boorish as myself cannot fully comprehend what the Rav had expected from his talmidim, but I can assume that excellence in both Torah and Madda is the primary ideal for which we should be striving. Those who try to accomplish this goal should take pride in their arduous work and should never become jealous of their friends, who succeed in secular subjects but fail miserably at, or don't partake in, the Judaic ones. In economics there is an important concept known as opportunity cost. I may have lost out on the social scene I always wanted (and may even reach the level of "shidduch" dating), but succeeding in both Torah and Madda helped me conclude that my time was being used effectively, and that the opportunity cost was minimal.

Yeshiva University provides the tools to train individuals to think and succeed. My hope is that people take advantage of the opportunities YU offers.

David (YC '09) is a Math major