Journaling: From Brain Dumps to Love Letters
When I thought about journaling, I would picture myself curled up in bed with a cup of tea writing leisurely about my day, feeling rejuvenated immediately after and ready to take on the world. The reality is… somewhat different.
As a keen writer, I jumped at the idea of keeping a journal to help dissect the constant stream of anxious thoughts running through my head on a daily basis. Perhaps I could purge them all out onto paper and cure my relentless overthinking. To be fair, I was partially right. However, journaling rarely looks how we see it on social media or in the rom coms we secretly love to watch. Often, we are stumped; unable to put the jumble of thoughts into words. I remember feeling puzzled as to why I can’t put my own words down. They were mine after all.
Eventually I had to start somewhere, and thus I began to write.
At first, I would write about my day or any life updates, almost as if I were answering a friend who’d asked what I’d got up to that day. As the entries went on, I struggled to shake this feeling that I was hiding something from myself. Yes, I was technically journaling’, but was I being honest?
After sitting with this thought and knocking around in my head to uncover this elaborate secret I seemed to be hiding from myself, it dawned on me that even in this space I claim was sacred and safe, my mental walls were still up. I wasn’t prepared for how being truly honest with myself would make me feel, and as a result, I continued to write half-truths to satisfy my desire to journal whilst protecting the part of myself I feared most.
Digging deeper, I found there were many reasons as to why I didn’t feel safe enough to unload; fear of my journal being read, fear of coming to terms with how I really felt, fear of how real those feelings would be once they were out and starring up at me from the paper.
After taking the necessary precautions to ensure my journal would never be found, I made a conscious decision to write with candour. The pages quickly turned from neat, collected entries for feverish scribbles, disturbing doodles, and words obsessively repeated until the pages cracked.
Journaling isn’t a linear journey, nor is it about perfection. It’s about cultivating a sacred space to be completely honest with yourself free from any fear of judgement. It’s about purging yourself of the thoughts and feelings you have kept deep in your subconscious under lock and key.
It’s about creating healthier patterns of thinking where those feverish scribbles eventually transform into love letters to yourself.