Writing, more specifically journaling, has been a cornerstone of my healing process, a vital outlet for my expressive personality. While I've always been very expressive, translating those emotions into simple words, especially in a way others can accept, has often been a frustrating struggle. I feel many can relate to the challenges of being themselves in a manner deemed "acceptable." While a part of me wishes I could disregard external judgment entirely, the reality of understanding the expectations of others is less than simple.
Since I started my recovery in 2022, I have had so many emotional outbursts. These outbursts were so physically, emotionally, and mentally violent. Every single little emotion that I had never experienced was always intensified. I remember a specific time when I was in rehab, I had only been there a little over a week, newly moved into the sober living house. At this point in my life, I had never shared a house with anyone; I always lived on my own, doing my own thing. I was sharing this house with 2 other females. I do not know what had happened, but I vaguely remember getting into a disagreement with the older lady I was living with. I lost it completely. I had a vicious meltdown. I mean the whole nine yards: crying, screaming, hyperventilating, my face was hot, my heart was racing, and all I could see was red. I charged across the street to the men's sober living complex where the site tech's office was. I burst in, just raging at him about every thought that ran through my head. I do not remember much after that. The next moment I can recall was sitting on the floor of one of the men's apartments, bawling my eyes out in front of 4 random guys I had barely met and my other roommate, whom I had only known for a brief time. These wonderful humans had spent the last few hours just listening, consoling, and being real with me about every emotion I was going through. When I was finally calm enough, we all talked for a while about what I was experiencing, how this was good, and I was willing to break down because it meant I was finally willing to take a look at what was going on. To this day, I am forever thankful for this real and raw moment, It was not until this day that I was introduced to the idea of journaling (or as I call it, word dumping).
So, from that day on, I opened my journal daily and dumped whatever words, thoughts, and feelings that crossed my mind. Each night, I would fill pages of my soft-cover marbled journal with whatever I needed to express from that day. Journaling has become an indispensable tool in my mental health recovery, acting as a safe place for the chaotic thoughts and emotions that once swirl incessantly in my mind. It's a space where I can freely "trauma dump," emptying the heavy baggage of past experiences and current emotional experiences from my head onto the page without fear of judgment or interruption. This act of externalizing the pain, anxiety, trauma, and fear allows me to gain a deeper perspective on them, honoring their impact and beginning the process of understanding. The physical act of writing, seeing those words in physical form outside of myself, creates a sense of distance and control. And once those thoughts are down, processed, and acknowledged, I can metaphorically – and literally – turn the page, leaving the weight of the past behind and continuing to write the next chapter of my life, moving forward with renewed hope and peace. Each journal entry is a step further on my healing journey, a testament to my resilience, and a reminder that I have the power to shape my narrative. Always remember 2 things: One, Journaling is supposed to be messy; it is whatever your mind needs it to be that day, even if it is just writing F-Bombs over and over on the page or getting deep into PTSD triggers. Two healing is never linear, there will be times when you go periods without journaling or working on your recovery. This is normal. Sometimes all we can do is hunker down and let the storm pass.
You are never alone, together, we can thrive through it.
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