When the shut down first happened, I felt complete and utter relief. I was still a junior at the time, and I wasn’t doing so hot. I was constantly overwhelmed and upset, but also apathetic and numb. A break from school was a godsend. 

I spent the initial break lazing about, it was honestly the peak of quarantine. But soon it was announced we wouldn’t be returning that school year, so my parents split time differently. I ended up moving every month or so between Iowa with my dad, and Tennessee to visit my stepdad with my mom, so I wasn’t home for months. 

It wasn’t bad, both places were in safe zones with low rates, so the rules were generally more lax. The malls were open early on, and the restaurants were serving.

By then, the school had taken to remote learning. It was a lot different from the eLearning we know now. Lessons were whenever you wanted, with attendance being nothing more than an assignment turned into one teacher. It should have been bliss, but I struggled. There was no structure to my day, and I lacked the will to do my work. I felt so much guilt and shame, like a total failure. Yet I still had too much anxiety to start. 

The mountain of work felt like it was going to kill me, but trying to start anything was out of the question, just the notion of it made me ill. I actually have an extreme fear of vomiting, but the ball of stress and fear in my stomach made me wish I could throw it up and get far away from it. I eventually got in a better state of mind, but I’ll never forget how desperate I felt. It’s a little ironic how the free time and loose leash learning I always thought I’d love ended up tormenting me.