How Keeping a Personal Journal Has Helped with My Emotional Regulation
The art of journalling has gradually earned an objectionable repute in certain societal circles, and witnessing its metamorphosis into a stereotype for “endlessly anxious and skitterish pubescents” is downright depressing. To say the least, trying to unearth the reason behind all the critical bashing against journalling has led me down the path of understanding and clarity.
In all respects, I feel as though its complementary nature to therapy and person-to-person counseling has helped a lot of at-risk individuals deal with mental health issues. On the other hand, the “dear diary” cliche has proven to be a decisive abhorrent to beginners who are happy to trash the entire process altogether.
Still, I yearn to cling to this art as an unconventional method of inner healing.
Yes, I said healing.
PEN AND PAPER
Here is my personal perspective of what the art of journaling constitutes.
Before I began journaling, I viewed it as a task, a chore that required my time and effort and did not yield much in the end. I likened it to suckling on a lollipop with elation only to find out there wasn’t any gum at the end of it all. Besides, I am a chronic intrapersonal communicator.
What this means is that I talk to myself more often than I divulge information to others. It is creepy to the outside observer but equally therapeutic. This is generally how I was able to regulate the thoughts and ruminations in my mind, and when they became a stream, I would take a mental break, hoping that they would fly off and not bother me again.
Obviously, they did not.
There is a glaring caveat with intrapersonal communication (self-talk): a sense of being overwhelmed.
There is a limit to which our human brains can store critical information and retrieve it with ease. We sadly are betrayed by our short-term memory and end up with jumbled-up thoughts in our minds and forgetting others. More pertinently, our long-term memory banks hold deep-seated traumas and very few incidences that we would gladly call into mind.
In comes pen and paper.
The concept of permanence is introduced. And with it, our short-term memories are easily documented allowing us to free our minds in order to accommodate even more ruminations.
Next comes discipline.
To be honest, there is nothing that is easy to do at its nascent stages. Motivation seldom shows up. It is at this juncture that it becomes imperative to discipline yourself to ensure that you maintain a steady progression in your journaling. I knew that it would be difficult for me to stick to daily entries without at least having to be held accountable and kept honest.
So for that matter, I downloaded a habit-tracking app and set notifications that would prompt me throughout the day. I was able to tweak the cycles and managed to find the proper time period where I could place my entries in my journal.
The compounding effect works wonders with the art of journaling.
The longer you stick to a routine, the more disciplined you become. Soon enough, this self-discipline drives you to own the process and manage journaling more easily. (I cannot imagine that I now have three fully filled journals!)
THE TRAUMA TRAP
Traumas are best handled when we are able to acknowledge them, be willing to analyze the root causes and have the courage to face the realities these traumas point to. The journey towards healing is dependent on whether we desire to move on, grow, and learn.
For most, the healing stage is uncomfortable. This is mainly because people have adapted to the causal experiences — horrific as they may be — in their lives and skirted around them with harmful coping mechanisms. Over extended periods of time, they can grow numb to life around them and relinquish control, resigning to their circumstances.
Some believe they must have been having fever dreams or reveries and ignore completely the implications of said experiences in their lives. Others grow in despondency when they convince themselves that their pain is singular and unrelatable, unworthy to be heard.
But there is virtue in journaling these experiences and the emotions they evoke.
It is a process that should be approached with compassion.
We are all human and therefore we struggle; no one is spared. Writing down our thoughts and feelings frees our minds from the burden of overthinking, overanalysis, and the self-immolating criticisms we level at ourselves unfairly. We learn a lot about ourselves too: our triggers, our reactions in varying environments, our habits, and our level of self-care.
Traumas can take unbearably long to heal from, and that is why it is important to follow through on the process of journaling by careful meditation. By this, I mean being aware of the mental space you are operating in and whether you are holding an open space to feel.
How do we do that?
Our emotions are informative response markers. When operating in a space of vulnerability and compassion, emotions can reliably inform us of our internal environment based on what we experience externally. For example, if I feel angry about a certain conversation, then I would conclude that perhaps my boundaries were violated (the trigger, in this case).
As we discussed earlier, instead of heeding my inner critic (which would undoubtedly slow the process), I would learn something about myself in that moment; to know that whenever my boundaries are violated, there is room for me to feel angry but then respond responsibly. It is about unlearning my harmful coping mechanisms (which in this case would be to retort or lash out) and relearning the responsible thing to do (clearly communicate my boundaries and my requests to have them honored by the other party).
Yes, it sounds ideal when I put it this way.
But most of the time it won’t work out ideally. The good thing is that it is a process that requires discipline.
2020, THE BREAKOUT YEAR
I began journaling in 2020, the year of COVID-19 (I visibly shiver as I write this). The amount of free time that the world was inadvertently forced to “enjoy” was almost criminal, and it was the year that saw a spike in mental health issues. The WHO reported that the global prevalence of anxiety and depression rose by 25%, attributed to the “unprecedented stress caused by the social isolation resulting from the pandemic”.
To paraphrase, people were forced to sit with their thoughts and emotions, a majority of which were debilitating. A novel disease, widespread deaths, numerous online conspiracy theories, and a horrific start to the 20s decade meant that a cloud of pessimism and worry hung over people’s heads for an entire year.
Writing down our thoughts and feelings frees our minds from the burden of overthinking, overanalysis, and the self-immolating criticisms we level at ourselves unfairly.
This was not the time for me to self-talk.
It definitely was not the time for me to fall into harmful self-regulation mechanisms.
In the UK, for example, data shows that off-trade volume sales of alcohol increased by 25.0% and remained consistent and sustained for most of 2020. It is clear to see that people were looking for a release — a large number of them found it in the consumption of alcohol, TikTok content, or spending time in isolation.
I delved into my journal.
And in it, I began documenting the nitty-gritty details of my life ranging from the mundane to relevant. At first, it was a slow slog like a rollercoaster finding its way to the zenith of its course. I was severely inconsistent and even hated myself for starting something I was clearly not going to see through.
The rollercoaster finally reached the top of the ride around September 2020. By this point, I had a schedule that I religiously followed and it was becoming easier to write down even longer entries.
My mantra was: Even if you don’t feel like it, do it.
Because journalling has its complexities and challenges like any other process.
WHAT TO WRITE?
The million-dollar question.
Journaling has no particular formula. It is aqueous in form and features.
Each individual tailors the process to fit their preferences. Personally, I prefer to keep it simple: reflections and meditations.
Reflections offer room for contemplative thought. They are ideally documented in the late evening. For example, “What did I achieve today?”, “What good and bad thing happened to me today?” and “How did I improve?”.
Meditations are deep inquisitory prompts that intend to examine self, will, emotions, and mindset. They require intentionality and accountability. For example, “Am I aware of my emotional vulnerabilities?”, “What are the things taking up too much space in my mind?”, and “Have I honored my needs and boundaries?”.
Remember, this is just my formula. I make changes to it from time to time, but it has generally remained static as so. I am comfortable with the process and the formula. Journaling ought not to be relegated to a mere insufferable task — it should be a comfort, a safe space to be able to open up.
You can always make additions to your personal journal such as to-do lists, favorite quotes, Bible verses, photos, reminders, and contacts. There is endless elbow room for inventive journaling methods.
By the time I am writing this post, I have four months before I celebrate four years of disciplined journaling. I keep the journals to myself, but with a little bit of prodding, I might disclose some of my memorable entries with you, for the purpose of sharing my journey. Armed with my mantra and my formula, I am grateful that I can continue to learn and grow from my life experiences. And I hope that you can too.
