It's 3 a.m. and you're lying awake. You never thought college could be such a depressing experience. Your love life is nonexistent, you're way behind in every course and your roommate doesn't understand you. There's no one to talk to, no one who will listen to your problems...

On the north side of Stoughton Hall, there's a door to the basement, distinguished only by a doorbell and a small red sign. Most students pass by Room 13 without even noticing it, and few have more than a vague idea of what goes on inside. But in the dank recesses of Stoughton basement a group of 30 undergraduates operates a telephone and drop-in counseling service for Harvard students.

Established about ten years ago in Room 13 of Mather House, the service originated as a peer-counseling group for students with drug problems. But Joanne Burger '81, co-coordinator of the service says, as heavy drug use at Harvard declined, Room 13 evolved into a more broadly defined organization, providing confidential help to students with problems and questions of every sort.

Although many students think of Room 13 as an offshoot of the University Health Services (UHS) psych ward, Burger and her co-coordinator, Gary Siegelman '81, stress that the staffers are not a group of aspiring psychiatrists testing their ability to take apart people's minds. Chosen each spring after a competitive selection process--last year 120 applied for 18 positions--the counselors' interests range from government to biochem. But Burger says, they have one thing in common--the ability "to deal sensitively with all kinds of issues."

Student images of Room 13 range from a light-hearted group specializing in milk-and-cookie parties, to a last refuge for the mentally unbalanced and suicidal. At various times the group is both of those things and virtually everything in-between. Even Siegleman says, "We have difficulties at times defining exactly what function we serve for people."

The coordinators emphasize that there is no typical situation a counselor faces, but admit there are types of problems they see fairly often. Many call because they're concerned about relations with lovers and about academic pressures," Burger says, but she adds that "people call when they're really happy too."

One person called to read a poem and another dropped in because he was estatic that he had finished his first expos paper. Viki Nevins '82, one of the counselors, defines Room 13 as "an ideal roommate who has time to listen" and that conception seems to be shared by the members of the group.

But although the group no longer performs a specific function, neither is it loosely organized or disorderly in operation. Room 13 is open for calls and drop-ins from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., 7 nights a week, and is staffed each night by one male and one female counselor.

Room 13 is actually three rooms. A main room--the central discussion area--has two beds off to the side, and a large desk with a telephone and files containing general information and referrals to other agencies. There are two smaller rooms for private counseling, one of which is stocked with milk, coffee, tea and munchies. The Room's basement location is dreary and musty, out the furnishings and lighting make it seem friendly, if not exactly inviting.

The counselors of Room 13 are not professionals, but they maintain a close relationship with UHS and the Bureau of Study Counsel. Each year, according to Siegelman, all the counselors also participate in a series of Freshman Week workshops on issues such as suicide, pregnancy, sexuality and academic problems.

Each week two counselors from UHS and two from the Bureau meet with what they call "supervisory groups" of the student counselors to discuss techniques, participate in practice role-playing situations, and go over problems that have come up in the past week.

Suzanne Repetto, one of the Bureau's supervisors, says, "the supervisory group serves as a link between Room 13 and the larger university," adding that the university is ultimately responsible for what goes on at Room 13.

The university funds the groups in two ways. Room 13 receives $1000 a year from UHS and the same amount annually through Archie C. Epps, dean of students. Epps says he meets with the program's coordinators at least once a year and feels that the program is necessary because it is "important to provide the student with a variety of avenues" to talk over problems.

How well the counselors accomplish this task is difficult to assess because of the group's strict policies of anonymity and confidentiality, but the professionals at UHS and the Bureau rate the service very highly.

Nadja Gould, a psychiatric social worker at UHS and one of the supervisors of Room 13, points out that although some students would rather go straight to UHS when they need help, others feel more comfortable talking to their peers.