I’ve started ‘journaling’ and it’s weird. It feels angsty even though there’s no real angst in it, not like back in the day when all I cared about was boys and fitting in. Now I can’t abide most men and am far less concerned with fitting in. In fact, the less the better because fuck anyone who doesn’t accept this. Oh yeah, and there are more swears.
What I’m trying to do with this whole daily journal malarkey is be honest with myself. Like, brutally. I try here but this is still an edited version of my thoughts, people from work read it, I can’t reveal every dark feeling. Nobody wants it. I know I mention anxiety a lot and I try to be truthful about it but there is a limit.
I’ve only done a handful entries so far but it turns out the adult me, subject matter aside, is not so different from the teenage me. I’d probably be more devastated if someone found and read my diary now. Why journaling though? Well, there are thousands of arguments for why it’s good to get down your feelings, especially if you suffer from mental health issues. It’s supposed to help order your thoughts and help you work through them.
I don’t know if this will work. If I’m honest, I’m already two days behind and I promised myself I’d put an entry in for every day, even if it’s just a sentence. I’ve been doing this for less than a week and I’m two days behind. I suppose with everything, I just need to make sure I put time aside. Time for me is one of the things that makes me feel most anxious, I put so much pressure on myself to juggle free time with doing things, it makes me feel quite ill sometimes.
Anyway, watch this space!