When the lockdown was announced in mid March, just as I have during other tough times in my life, I turned to my bullet journal
as a form of meditation and art therapy. It has given me the space to be creative and has inspired me to learn new things, such as doodling cactus plants and calligraphy. It has motivated me to accomplish goals, such as getting seven hours sleep each night, drinking more water and tracking my anxiety attacks because it's easy to do so in a fun, colourful way. But while I've been journalling, I've become acutely aware that a lot of my weekly spreads are bare. All these pretty pages, titles and neatly lined boxes with nothing in them has made me feel apathetic, confused and panicked, and left me wondering whether I'll ever get to plan properly again.