I’ve been outlining the various steps I took starting in late 2019 and going into 2020 to try to emerge from a state of mental illness and misery. Although they seem random and unrelated, these steps led me, for the first time in my life, to a period of continual improvement out of the state of constant anxiety and floundering in life satisfaction, relationships, and jobs.
Which brings me to journaling. I opened an old notebook in the fall of 2019. I was reading the book The One Thing. This book contains a journaling exercise that involves setting big “someday” goals, and then working backward to plan out the next ten years. For what it’s worth, I highly recommend this. I took my notebook to the patio of a bar a couple blocks away. This afternoon was a combination of being inspired by a new idea, and determined to enjoy my new neighborhood after a devastating breakup and having to move out of the home I loved.
I had sporadically journaled over the years, especially when I was younger. But I didn’t make a habit of it. This future-planning journaling was a guided and structured exercise. It was extremely valuable, and I still consult this piece of writing for planning my life. But for the larger purpose of my mental health, the act of writing loosened something in me. Physically putting my thoughts on paper helped me think.
I ended up journaling a fair amount over that following winter. But going into the next spring, I really started writing a lot. I’d pick up a notebook in order to jot down an idea, and would end up writing compulsively, for hours, all over the place mentally, covering page after page.
There was an element of that journaling that felt compulsive. And also an element that was wildly difficult. As I said, I would do this for hours, because I couldn’t focus. Part of those hours I spent spun up in my head, pacing around, with thoughts flooding too fast and to confusingly to write down. I couldn’t keep up with myself.
Nevertheless, this journaling made me feel better. I was managing to untangle my thoughts a little. That may not sound like much, but it was. This was a start to untangling the huge knot of mixed up thoughts in my head.