When packing for my first year of college, I scoured the internet for every resource I could find. I read list upon list of what to bring, how to act, and what to do the second I set foot on campus. This influx of information was overwhelming and incredibly anxiety-inducing. So, I got a journal while buying pillows, school supplies, and enough storage containers to organize my new life. It wasn’t on any of the lists I had read, but somehow, I knew I needed one.
I’ve never been someone who keeps a journal, besides the diaries I kept in elementary school that I’d usually forget to write in after the first week of starting it. In the wake of all the newness in my life, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and pick up the hobby again.
Starting took a lot of work. It was hard to put my feelings onto paper rather than keep them inside my head. I had the irrational fear that one day someone would stumble upon my journal and read all my deepest, darkest secrets. This fear would make me clam up before I could write a single word, overthinking everything I could think of writing down. Sometimes, all I’d do was stare at a blank page, wondering if my purchase was worth it or if it would even help me.
But I didn’t want to give up. I knew that I needed something consistent to do in college that wasn’t homework or going to class. More importantly, I needed an outlet, as my friends were now far away, preoccupied with their lives.
So, instead of going straight for vulnerability, I approached my journal writing more lightly. I wrote about mundane things, like a hangout with a friend or a song I liked. Slowly, I became more comfortable organizing my thoughts into something more profound, getting more vulnerable with my entries.
I won’t say the effects were immediate, as I’d still censor myself when writing down what I felt on awful days, but after each journaling session I did, I felt lighter and lighter. Letting my feelings go was easier than keeping them to myself. They could be free, safe in the confines of my journal, with many stickers plastered on the cover.
Journaling has made my bad days end easier and helps me let go of whatever heavy emotion is plaguing me. Good days are even better; I get a place to gush about everything and everyone I enjoyed that day.
The best part is that journaling allowed me to have an archive of my life in college so far, with all of its highs and lows. Perhaps years from now, I can look back on the entries and laugh about how a serious situation wasn’t all that serious in the long run. However, for now, I’ll keep building my time capsule of memories and feelings.
If you’ve ever considered getting a journal, I highly recommend it. In an ever-changing life, it’s always good to have a constant. We all need an outlet, and everyone has a pencil and paper. Even if it’s only a sentence you write down for that day, trying something new is never a waste of time.