A while ago, I read an article on Dr. Yoon's blog.
His blog is truly amazing.
To be precise, the timing when he uploads a post coincides with my mood change.
For sure, he never intends or plans it, even doesn't know my existence.
However, whenever there was something I was frustrated or worried about, or when a chronic yet nervous temperament bothered me, his post was always uploaded at just such a time.
And, appreciatively, that's exactly what I needed!
I wish Dr. Yoon would come to America.
The university I belong to has a mental health care program for graduate students.
If there is Dr. Yoon, I would visit him every day.
In Korea, even though always not perfect,
I had a sense of knowing and acting timely.
So it is not easy for me to accept new myself,
who is always slow, clumsy, and keeps making mistakes and troubles even with my whole-hearted concentration.
At times like this, I want to have an AI speaker that contains Dr. Yoon's words.
The rushing assignments and leadings-
TA assignments that are sometimes miscellaneous, sometimes heavy, and evenly distributed-
Arguing emails from students,
When all these things come crashing down on me, and I don't know where to start to untie the thread,
When I don't even have the strength to lift a finger,
At that time, I'd like to talk to the speaker.
Of course, I'm aware that the speaker cannot satisfy all my questions and will not fully represent Dr. Yoon.
And I know I can't put off what I have to do today.
But I hoped to at least find some great comfort from time to time.
Recently, I feel like I've brought a toilet
and multiple windows inside of me.
The psychological desire to excrete, defecate, ventilate, speak, and vomit via utterance has increased.
There was a sense that if I didn't honestly admit my hardship and struggles
when I couldn't stand it without saying it,
something risky would happen to me. When I first started blogging,
When I started 'Extremely Timid, Handspan Diary,'
I was enveloped in a certain sense of duty I had placed on myself. As a student studying art and as a master's student (!)
I was just learning and was constantly absorbing something as it was.
"To be frank, if you're a master's student,
you should be able to speak out or put your ideas into practice in arts.
We're old enough to do that."
In spite of this weighty advice from the senior,
the anxiety about myself kept bothering me.
"Can I say my words? Can I reveal my thoughts?"
In the interim, between hesitation and courage,
it was the 'blog' that let me have even a handful of courage.
For me, it was a kind of 'utterance training.'
Even if it's not a professional subject that deals with art,
l wanted to practice getting out my words and language for something.
Whether writing great or not, drawing terrific or pathetic, the only thing I have is an appreciation that I can express what I want to tell and speak out loud in a sound way through drawing and writing. If you keep saying that you feel hard,
it degenerates into being considered just a complaint, no matter how you are serious and genuine.
It will tire the people around you.
However, the art I store this way becomes my cherishable memories and assets. #. By the way, I should be able to figure out a way to keep myself mentally safe without getting burned out.
Not long ago, while studying and working, my body suddenly was enervated.
I couldn't do anything, and I sat down for some reason.
I was bewildered by the sudden situation and didn't know what to do,
but I just squatted on the ground.
How can I express this sudden helplessness?
Is helplessness right?
It wasn't just a feeling of simply turning the light off with a switch in the room.
It felt like the fuse box had been turned off.
I need something at this point, even though I don't know what exactly it is.