Breaking Through the Fog with Art

Merit-Based

Preciosa Rios, Alumna, Materials Science Engineering

I was in 5th grade when I showed an aptitude for science and math. I was often told I’d be the one to take care of my family when they get older. I’d be a doctor, engineer, scientist… something easily known, respectable, and pays well. Yet, I was good at art and anything creative. But even at a young age, I understood from others that pursuing art did not hold the same respect.

Like many, I grew up in a low income, single-parent household. I didn’t want to see my mom continue working multiple jobs for the rest of my life. I wanted to protect her and take care of her. I wanted to make her and my family proud. So, I quickly embraced those mainstream career options.

However, I started to get extreme anxiety when I would receive anything less than an A in my math and science courses. I focused on being perfect. I began to slowly stop taking courses in art and would instead only use art in clubs and projects.

I began to feel a strange sensation, like I was sleepwalking in life. Living, but not necessarily feeling “alive.” My mind was constantly jumping forward and backward into the future and past, into black and white thinking. I became consumed by worries at an early age.

I began to grow mentally and physically exhausted, especially in high school. I felt detached from everyone and everything. It was almost like there was a constant fog in my head. Emotions became dull. But I tried to hide this. I convinced myself to “look happy, because no one likes someone who seems like a wreck.” Yet, I always felt like a dam, ready to burst under the pressure around me.

Then, college came, and I truly turned my back on myself. I cared too much what others thought of me, what they thought success meant, and how I could try to make everyone happy. I embarked on a futile journey. I ran away from the things I had enjoyed for myself and tried so many of the majors everyone wanted me to be. I burnt out quickly when doors that were never mine to begin with wouldn’t open. I kept blaming myself, thinking “What is wrong with me?” I kept thinking of my family. How could I take care of them if I failed?

To say my depression and anxiety worsened is an understatement. I just wanted to stop existing. I wanted to stop failing at what felt like everything. I wound up graduating, feeling like I only managed to survive, and I still felt incredibly lost.

To this day, I don’t blame others. I don’t blame my family. I made the decision to listen to what others thought success meant. I ultimately decided to turn my back on myself to have others like me and be proud of me. I tried taking on generational burdens on my own.

If you resonate with my story, I want to say a few things to you. First, if you are experiencing mental health problems, seek help. Sometimes you need to talk to a counselor or get on medication to help your exhausted brain to prioritize your health. I promise, it is not a waste of time, and it doesn’t make you less in any way. You matter and you are never alone. The right people will support you and stand by you. They won’t try to dim your light by making you feel less. Also, things will not be this way forever. You will not be this way forever. At the age of 23, thanks to counseling, medication, taking care of myself, and finding a good support system, I feel like I broke through the fog for once. That I am living for once.

Secondly, it’s never too late to change who you are and what you want to do. When I started art again this past year, everyone saw how much I enjoyed it. For example, after painting for 12-14 hours straight, I always felt like very little time had passed. My family and community were happy for me. I am looking forward to pursuing art further.

Lastly, life is too short. You would be surprised with how the quirkiness, flaws, and passions you have make up the light that others need. Your job is not to fix everything, your job is to simply live, love, and explore yourself.