Over the years, I’ve thought a lot about writing. When I was a new Y2K therapist, it seemed that every therapist and their dog recommended journalling as therapy homework. While I never officially did a poll, it seemed so commonplace that if you were a therapist who didn’t journal, you weren’t self-aware and if you were a client who didn’t, you weren’t invested in your therapy. Ugh. Nothing like that kind of pressure and judgment to turn off motivation.

Journalling In My Early Era

I journaled a lot as a teenager. And I mean a lot. This may not seem like much to others but I filled up two Eggo waffle Costco-size boxes with hard-cover journals; I guess people in my life figured out that I liked to write because every birthday, I’d get another….journal. And on a side note, they mostly had flowers on the front because design options were pretty limited back then.

Sometime in my early 20s I taped up those packed Eggo boxes and put those journals in storage, proud to have a decently-documented history of my young life.

This teenage journalling was super cliched (“Dear Diary…) and pure emotional catharsis. I wasn’t tops in the friendship department (which made for a pretty lonely adolescence) and the fact that I was such a different kid interfacing with mainstream social scenarios, created a lot of internal and external friction.

Then sometime in my 30s I was cleaning out my storage, chanced upon those Eggo boxes, opened them and started reading. I winced. Not surprisingly, what I was reading was a total cringe fest. And not just that: there were a lot of traumatic moments documented in them too, many which I had forgotten and which frankly, would have been better left in those boxes.

I felt so bad after reading a sampling of this old writing that  I made the impulsive decision to throw out the journals from one of the two boxes. I have no idea why I chose one box and not both, or one box over the other: maybe I couldn’t let go of ALL or the memories, or maybe I felt obligated to keep some of them because of all of the cumulative writing effort, or maybe I didn’t want to forget parts of my trauma…I really don’t remember.  But when I did throw out the journals from one of the boxes, I felt relief as I relished in the thud, thud, thud sounds of them hitting the inside of the plastic garbage bin. Goodbye.

And yes, that second box is still in storage and I think about its contents sometimes, but I have no interest in opening it. I recognize that what I was doing back in the day was trauma dumping to myself (or some mythical, anthropomorphic journal figure) and I was also trying to make sense of my experiences by validating my reality during a dark and difficult period of my life. And, despite the awkwardness, I’m glad I did that. But does current me want to go back to the 80s and 90s? Not so much.

Journalling In My Current Era

Mercifully, journalling has changed a lot since my younger years. Maybe in some ways cringe is cool now and I should be embracing old me’s writing. But maybe today I’m still cringy when I write out my thoughts and feelings, but what’s changed is that I feel better about what I’m writing these days.

After I became a therapist, it clarified over time that I needed to start writing differently when dealing with my thoughts and feelings: writing strategically and idiosyncratically, aiming to better explore the specificity and changeability of circumstances, as well as the contents of my own mind.

What this has all meant is that I now put very little pressure on myself around writing or journalling, including  how I think it should go. Because of this, my writing options feel a lot more expansive.

Here are some ideas:

Identify a troubling or emotionally challenging situation. For me, this could be something that I am feeling very upset about, am feeling confused about or I am worrying excessively about.  Definitions of ‘upset’  can vary, but personally, it’s not uncommon for me to need to be triggered in order to find the motivation to start writing. Not everyone needs this level of internal pressure, though, and is probably more of a function of my neurodivergence!

Decide if you’re a keyboard or a handwriting person: I seem to be both. Sometimes typing makes me feel more settled, other times it makes me feel too constrained. Sometimes I feel poetic when I’m handwriting, other times my hand cramps up.

Assemble The Tools: do you prefer:

• Pen? (Fine point, medium point, ballpoint, rollerball, gel fountain?)
• Pencil? (HB, mechanical, charcoal?)
• Stylus (Fine or Thick)?
• Laptop?
• Tablet?
• A notes app on your phone?
• A secure online journal?
• A fancy journal? A bullet journal? A sketchbook?
• Loose leaf paper? The back of a credit card statement? A napkin?

You get my point.

Experiment With Form: full sentences, sentence fragments, bullet points, single words, expletives, drawings, squiggles, pen gashes, and anything else that captivates you.

Play With Structure: some folks like to be inspired by journal prompts and others like to keep the format loose, by self-directing their own narrative.

Consider Longevity: do you like to keep your journals and re-read them, or do you prefer the satisfaction of shredding, burning or disposing of them? Do you have a reason for keeping them, such as documenting a situation over time that you could reference? Some people also like to bring their writing for exploration during their therapy sessions, although it never a counsellor’s right to have access to your writing. This should only be led by you.

Trust In The Process: When I feel that I can just start writing without trying to control it too much, I feel that insights do come. They may not be profound but there’s usually some form of clarity to be had.

Find Your ‘Why’

I’ve talked about the “how” but if we’re to write consistently or sporadically over time, I encourage you to find your “why.” Writing takes effort and it’s just not sustainable to do something because you “should.”

Everyone’s whys are different, but mine have included:

• Emotional and situational clarity
• Emotional catharsis
• Emotional regulation
• Understanding thought processes and rationales
• Solution building
• Understanding systems or patterns inherent in experiences
• Documenting “evidence” or facts
• Improving self-knowledge or intuition
• Documenting successes
• Identifying areas to work on
• As a form of preparation before making apologies, having difficult conversations, etc.
• To increase accountability to myself

This month,  I’ve read and reviewed Alex Partridge’s book, “Now It All Makes Sense: How an ADHD Diagnosis Brought Clarity to My Life.” Alex is a big fan of journalling. He also has an excellent and innovative take on dealing with imposter syndrome, particularly where it intersects with work or business. Alex recommends that readers take a detailed log of their work progress and accomplishments (what he refers to as ascending “each rung of the ladder”) so that when the feeling of imposter syndrome hits more forcefully, there is a specific record of the steps (rungs) and hard work that led to one’s current position. He also recommends that this log be read often to strengthen the recognition of  accomplishments on a deeper, more sub-conscious level, which can ultimately strengthen self-confidence over time. And I think it’s a brilliant strategy.

I recommend that you give yourself unconditional permission to write without rules or expectations, for reasons that mean something to you personally. When we’re writing for ourselves on our terms, this can become a gateway to clarity and speaking our truth.