My Relationship with Journaling
The original post can be found here:
So I journal, every other day.
I am not doing it because its one of those ‘self help prescriptions’ to living a successful life.
It started more as a coping mechanism, during some dark lonely times, back in college.
And it stuck! ( Really grateful that it did :D)
To a point I truly look forward to telling my dairy about my day.
On my good days,
I write in beautiful italics.
I even draw cute little doodles on the very good days.
On bad days,
I just scribble away.
Some days there are no words.
Some days it’s plain boring —
Just a bullet point reporting on the happenings of the day.
Or a list of chores to be done for the next day.
On frustrated days, I just whine away.
And sleep, in the hopes that there won’t be a tomorrow.
But hey recently — there has been poems!
Something I thought I was incapable of!
Flipping through all these pages of hard labored words ( it’s about 4 books right now)
I see my growth,
From this 19 year old girl who believed nobody loved her,
Who lived in denial most of the time,
Who was trying to be extra good to the world, that she didn’t have boundaries for herself,
To this little more confident,
A bit more wise,
More at peace and
More than ever in love with herself 26 year old.
I dream of sharing my journal one day.
Maybe I will read it to that lover,
Entangled together on a cozy winter afternoon.
Or I will inspire my 13 year old son who is depressed and cannot find a meaning in life.
Or I will read it out as an entertainment piece on one of those fancy intellectual gatherings.
Or just share bits and pieces of it here,
On my blog.
Hoping to share more excerpts from my journal here ☺
Do let me know if your thoughts.
[PS — I am in no way correlating my growth to journal writing]