So before lockdown I started a journal. I’ve been told for years I should start one by many healthcare professionals after battling with my mental health. But I’ve always felt this sounds stupid and why should I do it? Nobody will ever read it so it’s a waste of complete time.
But after a paperchase sale near me a cute journal caught my eye and i couldn’t put it down. Sure I do the five minuite journal and self help journals but have I ever just unleashed myself in full? Let out my emotions I feel without saying the words and fearing judgement? No.
As a child I had one of those super cool diary’s you know the ones that had a electric lock and key and when you opened it there was a light and everything. Very swanky and perhaps the best Christmas present of my youth. Of course I wrote about pointless crap like how my day has been and how I hated my parents over something stupid like not letting me stay up late to watch ima celeb. But as I got older the beautiful book went and I was never to capture my love for writing again.
So coming back to it. At the start of lockdown I had nothing to do and I meant nothing. So I pulled out the beautiful bargain and started writing. At first I started documenting lockdown in some sort of justication that one day my diary may be read. Then I realised no this is private and I can go into my feelings. My real feelings. I wrote down things that upset me. Things people did that upset me. I wrote about my feelings and why I felt like that and shortly I’d written pages apon pages and didn’t realise. A small weight was lifted at the acknowledgment that I basically had somewhere to express and leave my darker emotions. There’s a reason why the mean girls called it a burn book I guess.
I kept my journal a place to write my emotions and my troubles. To express myself without a fear of judgement. I couldn’t judge myself as I will never read it again. I may even burn it when I’m done as therapy. But the release I felt. Obviously I wrote positives too but I have a lot of positivity journals I kind of keep this one as the feelings book and try not to feel I have to build myself up and I know it’s okay.
So you know what? I journal and I don’t care. Buy a pretty ass cactus covered or whatever you like journal and sit down for a bit and spill your feelings. Don’t read it again. Don’t hold back. Ask other members of your house not to read it or hide if you feel the need. But my god when they say it’s therapeutic they mean it.
Thanks for reading, Charlie x