It started innocently enough. I bought a journal.
A pretty one, too—matte navy blue, gold-foil stars, thick pages that whispered promises of self-discovery. I’d heard journaling was good for you. Therapeutic. Mind-clearing. A sort of meditation for the emotionally congested. People online swore it helped them “unlock their true potential,” “heal their inner child,” or “manifest a better life.”
I didn’t want anything dramatic. I just wanted to be a little less mentally scrambled. So I opened to the first page, wrote the date, and began:
"Dear journal..."
A few scribbled lines later, something shifted. I don’t know exactly what happened, but by day five, I had accidentally summoned a full-blown existential crisis.
Let’s talk about that.
The Myth of the Calm Journaler
Before we dive into the emotional firestorm that followed, I’d like to blame Instagram for setting me up.
Journaling online looks so peaceful. People post aesthetic morning routines: sipping herbal tea in candlelit corners, writing with fancy pens in leather-bound notebooks. Their captions say things like “starting the day with gratitude 🌿☁️🕊️” or “journaling helps me stay grounded.”
Grounded, huh?Well, I tried that. And instead of gratitude, my first journal entry looked like:
“I think I hate my job, I might be faking all my friendships, and I’ve had heartburn for three days straight. Is this adulthood?”
Instead of feeling grounded, I felt like I had just cracked open a vault of uncomfortable truths and blind panic. The journal didn’t center me—it handed me a flashlight and said, “Time to explore the emotional basement you’ve been avoiding since 2014.”
And let me tell you: it was musty down there.
Journaling: The Trojan Horse of Self-Awareness
Here’s the truth no one tells you about journaling:
If you do it with even the slightest bit of honesty, you will find things you didn’t want to find.
Your journal isn’t just a blank book—it’s a mirror with no filter. It reflects the parts of yourself you can usually dodge with noise, distraction, or Netflix.
At first, I thought journaling would be about making lists of things I’m grateful for and tracking my mood like a cute wellness girlie.What actually happened?
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I realized I was performing 70% of my life for other people.
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I noticed I say “yes” when I mean “absolutely not.”
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I discovered that most of my goals weren’t even mine—they were inherited, copied, or made up in panic.
Oh, and I wrote the phrase “I feel stuck” seven times in one week. That’s not poetic. That’s a blinking red light.
It turns out, when you stop distracting yourself long enough to write down how you actually feel... you might not like what you find.
Crisis Mode: Activated
They say journaling is good for your mental health. That may be true in the long run. But in the short term? It can cause what I now call an Existential Side Effect (ESE).
Symptoms may include:-
Re-examining your entire career path
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Questioning every relationship you've ever had
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Realizing you’ve been gaslighting yourself for years
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Googling “What to do when you don’t know who you are anymore”
“I think I’ve been chasing goals I don’t even care about.”
Cue crisis music.
Suddenly, my “relaxing” journaling routine had me staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering if I had wasted the last five years of my life. I was flooded with questions:
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Why do I feel pressure to always achieve more?
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Who am I when I'm not working toward something?
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Do I actually enjoy what I do—or do I just like being seen as competent?
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When did I start equating rest with laziness?
This is when I realized: My journal had become a portal. Not to clarity. Not to peace. But to a dark, dusty corner of my identity I had conveniently ignored for years.
Why This Happens: Journaling Isn’t a Fix, It’s a Mirror
We live in a world that encourages constant motion—scrolling, working, planning, improving. But rarely do we pause to actually feel.
Journaling forces you to pause. And when you do, all the emotions you’ve neatly tucked under the rug come pouring out.
Think of your brain as a messy attic. Every time you say, “I’ll deal with this later,” you shove another box of emotions up there. Journaling is the act of opening that attic door.
And guess what? When you open it, stuff falls out.Unprocessed grief.
Unspoken fears.
Unrealized dreams.
So yes, journaling can feel like it’s making things worse. But it’s actually just showing you what’s already there.
The Dangers of Self-Honesty (And Why It’s Worth It)
Here's the paradox: honesty is both terrifying and healing.
When I started writing truthfully in my journal, I felt worse before I felt better. But I also started noticing patterns. I started understanding my own cycles of burnout, my people-pleasing habits, my tendency to confuse busyness with worth.
The journal became a witness to my mind’s chaos—but also a map out of it.
Self-awareness isn't comfortable, but it’s powerful.
That said, here are a few things I wish someone had told me before I started journaling:
1. You Might Cry
And that’s normal. Writing things down makes them real. Emotions you’ve been ignoring come to the surface. Let them.
2. Your Journal Isn’t an Instagram Post
It doesn’t need to be profound, beautiful, or well-written. It just needs to be true. Spelling errors and all.
3. You Don’t Need to Fix Everything
Journaling will reveal problems, but that doesn’t mean you have to solve them all immediately. Sometimes the act of naming a truth is healing enough.
4. You Might Scare Yourself
You might write something down and think, “Do I really feel that way?” Yes. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be complex.
How to Journal Without Spiraling (Too Much)
If you’re ready to dive in—but also slightly terrified—you’re not alone. Here’s how to approach journaling gently:
● Use Prompts
Blank pages can be intimidating. Prompts give you a place to start. Try:
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What am I avoiding right now?
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What’s draining my energy?
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What do I want that I’m afraid to admit?
● Set a Timer
Give yourself 10 minutes. That’s it. Enough to explore, not enough to spiral.
● Use the “Three Things” Method
Write three things each day:
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What you're feeling
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What you're grateful for
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What you want to remember
● Don’t Re-read Everything (Yet)
Especially at first. The goal is expression, not analysis. You can reflect later—when you’re less emotionally raw.
Turning the Crisis Into Clarity
The truth is, the “crisis” I summoned wasn’t new. It was just finally visible.
Journaling didn’t break me—it revealed me.
Over time, the chaos turned into clarity. I started recognizing the difference between who I am and who I was trying to be. I started rewriting stories I didn’t even realize I was living by:-
“I have to be productive to matter.”
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“If I disappoint people, they’ll leave.”
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“If I rest, I’m falling behind.”
So... Should You Journal?
Only if you’re ready to feel everything.
Seriously. Don’t start journaling if you’re looking for a quick-fix or just another productivity hack. It’s not that.
Journaling is a confrontation. A reckoning. A brave, clumsy, healing conversation with yourself. And yes, it might stir up a crisis.
But sometimes, a crisis is what you need to break free from a life you’ve been sleepwalking through.Final Thoughts: The Crisis Was the Breakthrough
When I first started journaling, I thought I was adding a wellness habit to my routine.
Instead, I stumbled into a deep, emotional decluttering process that exposed everything I’d been avoiding. It was uncomfortable. It was messy. It was, at times, terrifying.
But it was also the most honest I’ve ever been with myself.
I didn’t know what I was doing when I wrote that first entry. I thought I was writing thoughts. I didn’t realize I was uncovering truths. I didn’t know I was about to burn down parts of my identity that weren’t serving me.And you know what?
I’m glad I did.
So if you’re ready to meet yourself—not the curated version, but the real one—grab a pen.
Just don’t be surprised if your journal hands you a flashlight and says, “Let’s go find the parts of you you’ve been ignoring.”
Because it will.
And it might just change your life.
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