I don't know what has been going on. Things started falling spart, much more quickly and severely than before, since the new year started. I started reflecting on my past year, and to be honest, I don't like it. I started talking to my therapist and taking medication around this time last year, and at first I thought: Oh I would be fine and I still have a bright future in front of me. However, with the COVID-19 break out and not being able to see people, my mental health just refused to cooperate. I never saw myself as a social person, in another word, I enjoyed spending time alone a lot; but when socializing is not an option any more, I struggled. Through out the entire year, I tried so hard to pull myself together and get things done, but I couldn't. When falling asleep and getting up both become a challenge, nothing would be done. Specifically in art, I did finish my artist book, with a lot of reflection and dissection on my own thoughts. That was an enjoyable, yet painful process. I like how it turned out, but I also hate how it took me the entire summer and fall to get it done. My portfolio advisor is a current undergrad student at RISD and he has a very different approach into creating art. He could just express himself and his individuality without even thinking about it, and tie the pieces together and write about them afterward. But I couldn't figure out how to do that, I would overthink every and each one of my decisions, and I try to give them meanings and intentions, and when I couldn't I get so frustrated. We have paused our classes and he told me to just- draw whatever I'd like to draw. I still feel like I'm so much behind in the process of preparing my portfolio, and I constantly think that I'm not good enough, I'm not creative enough. I don't know what do about it. I don't even know what I like anymore. And then, and then I started feeling confused and num and hopeless all the time, I don't know what I'm doing, I have no goals any more, I stare at my computer screen for hours without even enjoying it. I missed the times I actually enjoyed my life, without being held back by depression and anxiety; instead of feeling like everyday is as boring and miserable as the rest. I missed the times I could still draw and do actual work, without overthinking about every stroke I paint on the canvas because It looked ugly; instead of feeling guilty every time I take out my pencil because I'm not doing my portfolio but doodling useless and stupid things. I don't know, I really missed that.

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