For context, I'm 22F, in a long distance relationship, working remotely so I never get out of the house, and my flatmates are friends from college but we've become different people over the years and I don't tell them much any more because I'm afraid of judgement. 

I began therapy in December and I felt excited about asking for help and taking charge of my mental health narrative because it took me so long to get comfortable with the idea. First few months were great. I almost forgot that I'm "a sad person", but the feeling of hope has worn off in the last couple of weeks. I've been having breakdowns again and it feels like there's no way out. Even if I get the things I "want" (I don't even know what I want any more), there's no real point to anything. I feel like the sadness is the gravity of my life, like everything comes back to it somehow. I never want to leave the house because I'm anxious all the time. It's been taking a toll on my work, my personal life, my growth, and my relationship. I'm afraid I'm not doing anything right.