Best places to cry on the Manawatū campus
Massey University’s Manawatū campus is almost 100 hectares of biodiverse plant species and architecturally distinctive buildings, which means there are dozens of nooks and crannies to discover for your weekly breakdown. Naturally, as students, we visit these spots to expel any built-up stress, anxieties, and good old-fashioned depression from the ups, downs and even worse downs of university life. I myself am only two weeks into my second year (at time of writing) and I’ve cried enough to flood Palmy in a state worse than 2004. Whenever it’s just too much, Massive recommends the following places for a cup of tea, a lie-down, and a sloppy cry.
BLEDISLOE PARK
This one is a no-brainer. Half a mile of prime bushland, with the sound of a gushing stream to distract you from your exam stress. Listen to the tui as you crack open your own. There are a few benches and places to sit down with your head in your hands, and you can often find a hidey-hole off the beaten path if you don’t mind a bit of dirt. It’s a fair trek from the classrooms, more so than the others on this list, so the chances of pEoPlE wHo CaRe interfering with your breakdown is very slim. The joggers doing the Te Araroa Trail won’t even notice you.
THE LAKE BY THE VET BUILDING
A lovely duck pond, and a good deal of shady trees to sit under. Although the putrid smell of duck shit lingers here, try standing on the bridge in the middle and look out over the lake, to pretend you’re in that romantic drama series you binged that week instead of studying. Be aware that in Semester 1, when the pre-Vet freshers are around, they’ll be taking up most of the space with their own inconsolable tanties. It’s much better in Semester 2 when they’ve all dropped out.
THE LIBRARY
Another obvious choice. More people have been on the surface of the moon than the third floor of the library, and nobody’s ever told me off for crying too loudly up there. Book out a study room on the second floor for a private meltdown; they’ve got fans if it’s warm and your own chair to throw through the window. Most desks have power sockets, so you can keep your phone plugged in for an hour-long call with your mum as you desperately persuade her to let you come back home. Everyone else is just as stressed as you are – it’s the place to be if hearing “mood” and “I feel that” from passing strangers is a productive form of therapy for you.
THE OVAL
This is an option for versatility. If you want to scream into the void towards spotless grey skies, stand in the middle of the cricket pitch. If you want to hide away for a more reserved sob, duck inside the bush near Business Studies where there’s two benches that are barely visible from outside. Within a few steps, you can quickly feel like you’re miles deep in the bush, right down to the bugs and mozzies. You can also lie face-down on the embankment, which appears to passers-by as if you’re just soaking up the sun – all three hours of it between November and March. An all-purpose space for both existential, stress-related and general quarter-life crises.
SIR GEOFFREY PEREN BUILDING
The square building with a map on its carpet, which somehow makes you more liable to get lost. It features fantastic Spanish Mission architecture from the 1920s and is surprisingly well-ventilated and restored for its age. I think the only thing missing from this space is complementary, Dali-esque cigars. If you walk around here for thirty minutes, you’ll find a place that nobody else has ever been in the century of this building’s existence. Make sure you leave a trail of breadcrumbs, as you may not be able to find your way back out. Actually, navigating this building is probably more stressful than whatever it is you’re going through, so unless the urge to disappear forever is too great, be careful with this one.
YOUR ROOM IN THE HALLS
This was one of my favourites back in my first year. Because the walls of your room are so thin, it may take some time to get comfy with fifty other people being able to hear your emotional collapse. However, because the halls do such a bad job of creating a culture of unity and friendliness, chances are nobody gives enough of a shit to check on you and you’ll be left to cry in peace.