This is a digital scrapbook page I made in 2010 about my journals.
I began journaling when I was eight years old, when my parents bought me a pastel blue lock-and-key diary that had a picture of a fluffy tabby kitten on it. The pages were edged gold and I fell in love with that tiny book where I could say whatever I wanted to say without the fear of anyone reading it.
This was followed by countless years of keeping journals of all kinds, where I was free to write down my dreams, fears, the day’s happenings and how I reacted to them, my mental illness, and often lists or erotic fiction. Sometimes I wrote slowly, relaxed, savouring. Other times I wrote frantic and jagged, filling page after page with my anxiety, sadness, or anger.
When online diaries such as Livejournal hit their peak, I loved the idea of sharing my thoughts and happenings with friends who were doing the same. I couldn’t be as open as I was in my private journals, but I didn’t think there was any point to writing in those hardcover books any more. When would I ever read them again? Why would I want to hold on to bad memories and negative energies? I stopped writing in my journals altogether, and when I did, I felt frustrated that all I was doing was scrawling out my depression and misery all the time.
Yet I held on to that box of journals, occasionally pulling a few out to read back. I began to see patterns in my mental illness, and rediscovered poems, ideas, and dreams that I had completely forgotten about. I had forgotten how truly beneficial journal-writing was, especially in a pretty book, and especially when you desperately need to vent and no one wants to listen.
To be honest, I’ve been far more depressed from NOT keeping a journal!
The healing powers of journaling are truly like no other, and I find them to be especially helpful now on my spiritual path.
Now I keep a number of journals, and I have returned to that joy of writing anything that comes to mind. This includes my little Book of Shadows, whose recycled cotton pages are slowly being filled.
Love and light,