Keep a notebook. Travel with it, eat with it, sleep with it. Slap into it every stray thought that flutters up in your brain. Cheap paper is less perishable than gray matter, and lead pencil markings endure longer than memory. (Jack London)
When I started journaling, I used to do it in a Dear Diary kind of way, to record what happened during the day. I was 9, writing on a tiny pink journal that I specifically asked from Santa Claus. In high school, P and I would share our journals with one another, a habit that carried on to our early adulthood, when instant messaging wasn’t a thing yet, and the only way to share our daily life with each other was through our journals. Dear Diary gave way to trauma dumping (before trauma dumping was a term) and for the longest time, my journals were filled with anger and resentment. And then either I life got easier or I got better at handling my emotions, but these days, I journal for three reasons: (1) to brain dump and clear my mind, including writing down reminders to myself; (2) to process feelings, thoughts, and decisions; and (3) to combat the zombie apocalypse aka brain rot.
