Journaling is my growth.

It’s my release.

I looked back to some of my very first posts this morning I reread some to see my progress in writing and also my mental health. Both are improving thank you. I wince at some of my journaling, I’m my biggest critic and supporter.

Watching my voice change over time

My style

Most importantly my story.

Two years of writing I’m not sure how many posts I’m not going back to count but I’ve written at least 150,000 words. That’s about a quarter of War and Peace.

I write to hone my skills and I write to release my thoughts.

Growth.

Each word you write down is a release. It’s a release of expression, pressure and emotion. You don’t even have to post it publicly. I do. It takes guts folks. I don’t post on here for TMI recognition I post because I know my feelings and expressions are shared with many others. Sometimes you might relate to what I’m going through and think

“I’m not alone after all”

That’s why I share them. And to hold myself accountable for what I say. Somedays I think I’m wasting my time when I do but I still post them up for myself. The past week I had three different people I ran into tell me that they enjoy reading these.

That’s all I needed.

Yeah I do it for me but as I mentioned earlier I try to remind that we are all relatable whether you like someone or not we all share the same struggles.

I began journaling on here in March of 2023. Almost two years under my belt. My vocabulary has grown I find myself using words in conversations and in my head I’m “where the hell did that word come from?” Sometimes I’ll even use it correctly..

I got to know myself better after I started writing. I’m notating your inner dialogue. Sometimes I’ll jot something down and stare at it.

“Why did you choose to say that?”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Is this feeling unnecessary now?”

“This emotion is no longer apart of you”

“Let it go”

I’ve let go quite a bit. Trauma, bitterness, anxiety I could go on. I read some of my first entries and I’m experiencing an older version of me. I don’t talk the same way. I don’t think the same way.

I keep writing. Everyday.

It’s my devotion.

Devotion to a better me.

Everyday

Like Bradley Cooper in Burnt shucking his oysters until he’s paid his dues.

Devotion

It’s changed me and it’s meant to because my trail markers tell me so.

My writing sometimes exposes my trail markers. I ended my 4 years of reckoning because my writing told me to. Literally wrote it on the page for me “Your reckoning is over” I cried for ten minutes when I wrote that.

Writing releases

I’ll go back to that insert regularly when I’m struggling with my old self to remind me that I have nothing else to prove to him.

The demolition is over.

Time to frame a new you.

I couldn’t have done it without the assistance of journaling.

Most of my writing material comes from my meditations. Or when I’m driving up to some mountain holler but I’ve been grounded the last few months. Something will stroll into my mind and I’ll make a little phone note of it. I’ve got quite a few to catch up on some stories are harder to mold than others. Somethings I begin to write are emotional reactions and I burn out once the feeling subsides. I’d like to think it’s the writing that diffuses my bombs.

I’m reprogramming the words I think and say.

Deliberately

I worked in kitchens most of my career the words that sometimes come out of my mouth can be a little crassy. It doesn’t take much abrupt emotion for those words to sing like an angry hummingbird.

If I think before I write the words I say then my mind begins to follow suit.

I can feel the words writing in my head before I say them now. Or at least I’m getting better at it. It’s quite the gem for me. Also it allows me to express myself better. I’m a man of few words if profanity is removed.

I’m working on it.

Some mornings if I actually reread what I wrote I’ll smile and think “man that felt good to let go”

I used to concern myself with my grammar. I let that go months ago. My words are grammatically incorrect. It’s how I speak.

I may not write out “I ain’t got no”

instead of

“I don’t have any”

most of the time but I’m sure as hell thinking it. Thanks for that one Piedmont.

When you write things down you’re creating a visual representation of what you’re thinking

How you’re feeling

A story board of your thoughts.

After you write, stop and look at what you jotted down. Read it aloud like someone else wrote it.

Standing over yourself.

Like a teacher that looks over your shoulder checking your work.

Once you observe how you think you begin to understand that other person that talks to you all the time.

The one that’s scared

The one that doubts

Hesitates

Backs down or away

I lost most of my confidence when I parted ways with my old company. I found it again through writing. This from a guy who never takes notes because he didn’t like to write. Trail marker slapped me in the face to wake that guy up.

Mandolin Rain is in my ears. Highly recommend for a headphones vibe

Bruce Hornsby. Shares my mother’s maiden name.

Writing slows me down. It makes me sit and pay attention something 12 years of rotating teachers were unable to do. I have the low grade report cards to prove it.

Actually I don’t.

Parents don’t save report cards wallpapered with C’s.

Glad my child doesn’t have to deal with that. She’s a smart one. She’s what I wanted to be scholastically. Baton flipped over my head on that exchange.

I’m not embarrassed by my school grades by any means. I was never a C person just the student part. Can’t recall the last person standing in my business asking what my state test scores were while they picked up a charcuterie board.

As I write my work mind is twiddling it’s thumbs – “hey let’s halt the journaling bucko you have a new menu that you’re rolling out today.

Fuck

Fine

Peace and elbows yall.