What I'm Up to Now

Hey, dudes, it's been a while, and I don't even know if anyone is still out there, but if anyone is interested (and has a reasonably open mind) I thought I'd just let ya know that I'm hanging out at my new blog, The Swamp, which is all about my adventures in writing and publishing attempting to get published.

Back in January of 2011, the desire to write just sort of roared back into my life with a Vengeance.  Characters appeared in my head and started yelling for their stories to be told, just like they did back before the Bogus Bipolar Diagnosis and the Dark Times when I couldn't write at all. 

And I've been writing steadily ever since.  I've got a huge fantasy novel in its second draft right now.  And I'm first drafting a sci fi series that right now looks to be five books long.  Once I've got something in final draft form, I'll be sending it out to The World to have a look.

I don't have the new blog open for comments, and I'm not sure I will, cuz I'm not into hate mail, not in the least... But if y'all are interested in coming by and having a look, feel free. 

Just don't tell my mother what I'm up to...

Busy, Busy, Busy...and Game-Addicted

So, I am, contrary to popular belief, still hanging about the blogosphere, I've just got a whole lot of things dancing around in my head competing for my attention. Like...

1. Knitting. I have socks (2 pairs), mittens, hat, dish cloth, and shawl on the needles at the moment, and am contemplating taking the plunge and trying a sweater. Eek. Somebody stop the woman before she hurts herself!

2. Baten Kaitos. I am writing an FAQ for this Most Awesome of Video Games, because the ones I've found to date just don't cut it for me. Yes, I realize this is a monumental waste of my time, and yes, I realize that at 43 years old I have better things to do with my life, but really, there's something about organizing large, complex data sets that just sort of floats my boat. As it were. It was my favorite part of writing my dissertation, and it was my favorite part of the work I did after that on data analysis of the contents of nuclear waste tanks. Yes, all right, that means I'm a geek of sorts. But it also means that after four years of trying, I'm finally going to beat this damn video game!

3. Catherine Asaro. I've started re-reading her Skolian saga and even though I've read it before (a few years ago) I can't put it down. 'Nuff said.

4. The embryonic novel that's in my head right now and won't shut up. I've started writing a few scenes for it, and run through a few more in the shower. Don't ask. It works.

None of these things is really conducive to sitting down quietly and typing up insightful blog entries that the world at large...or...the three of you who are still reading this thing...are interested in hearing about, and so all I can do is come before you with my hands spread, shake my head dolefully, and say, "I got nothin'"

Maybe I'll have more time after I've beaten the damn game next week, eh?

Waiting for Someone

I am waiting for someone.

I know he's out there. I have a vague picture of him in my mind, and some restless ideas about who he is and what he wants. But he hasn't shown himself yet, nor has he spoken to me.

"He" is the main character of my next novel. He doesn't have a name yet, or a story, but I have that sense that someone is out there, lurking on the edges of my mind, waiting for the right moment to leap in and demand that his story be told.

Once he shows himself, my life will change. His story will consume my thoughts and my dreams, and I will write on fire to get it told until it's done. Floors will gather even more dog hair than they have now (anyone who tells you huskies don't shed is lying through their teeth), dishes will pile up in the sink, and bathrooms will become...unmentionable. Er...more unmentionable.

It's probably the knitting that has brought this on. For those of you who don't knit, I've found it to be a lot like crochet in the sense that it can be a meditative experience. Once I know what I'm doing, my hands sort of take over and the creative part of my mind goes wandering off into unexplored territory.

Which is all well and good if I actually feel like I want to write a novel, but right now I don't. A novel takes a lot of work and time and energy, and I don't feel like I have that much to give right now. And I don't like the feeling of this restless, creative tension coiled up inside me. It feels like the air before a summer storm, dark and brooding, and full of energy.

Whoever this guy is, I hope he shows up soon...I'd like to give him a piece of my mind; a much smaller piece than he'll get if I decide to tell his story. I could use a good argument right about now. I'll just tell him to go bother some other writer and leave me alone.

Yeah. Like that's ever worked before.

Writing Prompt: This is how I look at my process. What does your creative process look like?

Thoughts on Success

Ever since I was given the opportunity to be a stay-at-home mom, and once the children were in school, the time and energy to pursue my writing, I've been trying to understand why it is that I have no interest in the whole publishing game.

I've written. I've written volumes. Novels and a writing book and reams of poetry...and of course, pages and pages of journal stuff. But I have absolutely no interest in sending it out.
Friends and family have read my work, and when they have finished, I am always asked, "Are you trying to get this published? You really should, you know."

And I always want to ask, "Why?"

I used to think that maybe the reason I didn't want to send it out was fear...fear of rejection, fear of failure...but I have sent stuff out, and honestly, it's no big deal. I am well aware that the publishing business is purely market driven, and that what sells is what The Herd likes to read. Unfortunately for my future as a "professional" writer, the only person I have any interest in satisfying with my writing is myself.

Artistic success, as this culture seems to define it, is only important if you hold what other people think to be more valid than your own soul's truth.

Or maybe if you have any interest in where your next meal is coming from...

Writing Prompt: How do you define success? By your own definition, do you consider yourself successful?

What is a Writer?

What, exactly, is a writer? I think a writer is someone who writes. And I think a real writer isn't necessarily someone who has been published (as some of those who have will tell you--like it's some sort of exclusive club or something), but I think a real writer is someone who can't not write.

It's a mind-set rather than a list of accomplishments. Because when it comes down to it, published or not, we're all doing the same thing. We're all writing. Sometimes it sings, sometimes you cry. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes you sweat blood. Even the professionals--those who've "made it", those who've published a dozen books or more--admit to fear of the blank page.

For me, like anyone who I consider a real writer, writing is an integral part of life. If I'm not-writing, there's a problem. Every big not-writing period in my life has corresponded to a time when I didn't want to face the truth the writing would make me face head on. Writing cuts through the shit. Writing reaches the essential core of my being, brings forth the dreams, the truths, and the mortal dreads.

A writer writes.

Writing Prompt: What is your definition of a "real" writer? Do you consider yourself to be one? Why or why not?

Writing as Meditation

My friend Gianna over at Beyond Meds was up at 3 am last night writing out her anxieties over a trip she is taking this morning. Her post got me thinking about all of the times I have done exactly that--sat down feeling all wound up about something, scrawled my anxieties or pain or fear (or sometimes all three) across several notebook pages, and come out on the other side feeling, if not better, at least better able to handle the situation.

I don't think you have to be a writer or a long-time believer in the power of journaling to benefit from this sort of catharsis. I think that a torrent of words at the right time can have extremely healing and beneficial effects. I have used writing when I've been in the middle of a difficult situation. Writing helps me sort out what, exactly, is going on, and what, exactly, I'm reacting to. And it helps me figure out what I might do to ease my way through whatever it is I'm going through. It's something you can do, as opposed to just letting events take you where they will...and I'm all about doing something when I'm in the midst of a crisis.

And that's fine for those highly emotional moments when you just need to get it out. But what about for the everyday parts of your life? I have found writing to be an excellent form of meditation. Julia Cameron talks about writing as a form of meditation in the books from her "Artist's Way" series, which include "The Artist's Way", "Walking in this World", and "Finding Water", and also in some of her other books, including "Vein of Gold". Cameron calls it Morning Pages, and Morning Pages are three pages of longhand writing that you do every morning, first thing. They don't have to mean anything, they don't have to be about anything, they don't have to be pretty or spelled right, because nobody is going to see them but you. They are basically a brain dump. Whatever's on your mind, put it down, and you don't ever have to look at it again if you don't want to. It's about the process, not the product. My Morning Pages are usually pretty banal: I can't believe it's morning already. I wish I was still in bed. There is too much to do today and I don't want to do any of it: vacuuming, laundry, grocery shopping...I absolutely don't want to grocery shop because that means I have to figure out what we're going to eat and I don't know what we're going to eat because those kids won't eat anything...

Writing in this way, every morning, feels like meditation. It's part of my routine. It sets me up for the day. I come away from it feeling refreshed and ready to start my day. I suppose it does take a bit longer than your ten-minute mindfulness meditation... but for me, writing is how I make sense of my world, and so for me, writing is a perfect form of meditation.

Writing Prompt: Set aside twenty minutes or so and do a brain dump. Just write whatever is on your mind no matter how mundane or boring. Even if you have nothing to say, write that. The trick is to just keep your hand moving the pen across the page for twenty minutes. When you have finished, sit in silence for a few moments and ask yourself how you feel. Do you feel more collected? Less scattered? Consider whether or not a morning brain-dump might be a helpful thing to add to your arsenal of wellness tools.

Putting Myself Back in the World

I feel as though I am at some sort of cusp or turning point. For the last three years--since The Chief's heart attack and my subsequent liberation from chemical restraints--I feel as if I have been curled up inside myself. In a state of hurt bewilderment, I've been laying low and licking my wounds.

But over the last year or so there has been a gradual opening up, a reclaiming of territory I once thought of as mine. Medication and several emotional wounds turned my beloved home territory into a dangerous, alien landscape...but slowly, it seems, I have begun to reach out. I took a chance and invited someone I met at a school function over for tea one afternoon, and over the last year, a deep and mutually beneficial friendship has blossomed. I started writing again, and trusting myself to just do it, like I used to. And although my interests have changed, the passion is still undeniably there. And today I mailed off my application to teach a journal workshop of my own design through our local community education program, and I feel like that is the culmination of all of that healing work I've been doing...putting myself back into the world, as it were.

Journaling and Writing Prompts

Okay, here's the plan: all six of you who read here regularly probably saw the Journal Series I did a few weeks ago. I really enjoyed doing that, and I'm working right now to put together a curriculum to teach a journal workshop through my local community education program this fall. In my research for this class, I've been looking at the benefits of journaling, and there are so many! Just a few of them are:

* The times of change that we all experience--such as changing a job, a move, a marriage, a shift in family dynamics, a death, an illness--can have a profound impact upon our established routines and lives. Examining these situations in the journal can help us make sense of these events and regain our sense of control and balance as we bring order to chaos.

* Writing is a form of self-expression that is accessible to most of us. We already know how to write, and many of us do it as part of our jobs. Writing does not require special training or equipment, unlike painting or sculpture or music, all you need is a notebook, a pen, and a few minutes.

* In our modern culture where everything is hurry-hurry, rush-rush, writing longhand in a notebook forces us to slow down and enter a more contemplative state of mind...something that's not possible during much of the rest of our lives.

In addition, the journal provides us with a healthy way to release emotions and frustrations, a way to develop and clarify our goals, a place in which to work on relationships and engage in some creative problem solving, a way to help discover your true path in life, a place where we can gain perspective and resolve and heal past issues, as well as a place to record meaningful insights and personal history.

I encourage everyone to grab a pen and a notebook and start a journal right now! And to help out, I'm going to try posting some writing prompts a few times a week (maybe even every day, if you're lucky!). These writing prompts are just a jumping off point, a place to start. You can write the prompt at the top of the page and then respond to it. The writing doesn't have to follow any particular form, and you certainly don't have to stay on topic. Just sit quietly and observe the thoughts that arise in response to the prompt, and then begin writing them down. Don't worry about spelling or grammar, don't worry about writing something clever or polished...this is raw journal writing, it's not supposed to be "good."

If you have time when you've finished, read over what you've written. Make a note of anything that surprised you. Think about whether there were other thoughts that arose while you were writing, things you didn't get to because they were off the track you were following, or you didn't want to pursue them at the moment. Jot them down as ideas for future entries. Perhaps some of them can become writing prompts you can use another day.

Don't forget to date your work--if you look back on your journals years from now, you'll want to know what period of your life those thoughts represent.

Writing Prompt: I am the child of...

Summer Vacation

Summer Vacation at my house begins tomorrow at 11:57 am. I anticipate it with dread.

Hell's Barrister arrived home from school yesterday, flung his empty backpack to the floor and did a victory dance in the foyer, crowing, "No homework!"

Ten minutes later he informed me that he was bored.

Tomorrow my quiet times will suddenly disappear, making it difficult to write. I am hoping that since the kids are a year older (and hopefully a year more mature) that it will not be as bad as some past summers have been.

So depending on how things go, posting over the summer may be lighter than it has been. So far I've managed to get something up every day, but working conditions being what they will be for the next three months, I may not be able to keep up the pace I've set, although I will try, for writing is what keeps me sane, and I will need every sanity saver I've got this summer!

I need to take my own advice and be more mindful about this whole thing, don't I? But when I think about the next three months stretching out before me, I don't feel mindful at all. Just sort of...resigned. And a little bit desperate...

*sigh*

Roll on September...

How is Writing a Novel Like Climbing a Mountain?

You stand at the bottom of the mountain and all you can see is this huge, sheer rock face, and all you know is that somehow you've got to make it to the top. Standing back and looking at it is frightening--the rock face is so smooth and the top is so far away.

You take a deep breath and you move in closer. You start nosing around at the bottom of the rock wall, and you notice a few hand-holds, and a little way up there's a ledge you could probably get to if you try.

But you have to get in close in order to see these things. You have to get so close that you can't quite even see the top anymore. You know it's there, and as you start to climb, you start to believe that you will reach the top. You don't know exactly how yet, because each step on the way up puts you in a different place, and you have to look around and evaluate, figure the best way to continue depending on where you are and what the lay of the land is. You don't know how long it will take, either, because you have no idea what the next day's climb will reveal.

Sometimes the mountain presents you with choices--an easy way and a not-so-easy way. And you can't always see ahead far enough to know which way will be best. Only know that the easy way isn't always the best way, and you can learn a lot from taking a risk. And if taking a risk doesn't work out, you can always backtrack to the last safe ledge and take a breather, look around again, and reevaluate.

Sometimes you realize, part way up, that you're climbing a completely different mountain that you thought you were. And sometimes when you get to the top, you find that the view is completely different from how you imagined it would be.

Sometimes you decide partway up that you don't want to climb this particular mountain, or that you cannot continue because there are simply no more hand-holds.

This is when you remind yourself that even though you won't reach the top of this particular mountain, you have kept in shape and improved your skills just by trying. And perhaps what you've learned will make the next mountain just a bit easier to climb.

The Journal Series: Some Thoughts on Truth

I really thought I was done with this series yesterday, but I guess not. I need to stop taking showers. I get too many good ideas in the shower...

Truth in fiction is the story's truth. It's what makes a story resonate with what you know to be true. Truth in fiction has nothing to do with make believe and everything to do with making us believe.

And then there's the other kind of truth. The one you sometimes have to ask yourself how much of you really want. This kind of truth is for journal writing. This is the kind of truth that can hurt people.

Truth can cut deep. Is your first loyalty in writing truth to yourself or is it to the people in your life whom you love/hate/want to protect? This is where privacy comes in. If you're going to write your truth, you need to protect yourself and others by making sure people who could be hurt by your words don't have access to them.

There is never only one truth to any story. Each of us has our own version of the truth, each of us puts a unique spin on a story that is seen through the filters of our own individual set of experiences. So your truth of an experience will not be the same as the truth of the other people involved.

Truth is what I try to write in my journals. But I'm well aware that what I'm writing is only my truth. Others experienced the same events completely differently. Their story is not mine. But my story is the only one that's going to help me find my way.

Truth is what you should aim for in your journals. Not someone else's truth. Not the truth you think or have been told ought to be yours. Not the politically correct truth, or the truth that isn't going to hurt anyone. The real truth. Your truth.

Even if it hurts.

The Journal Series: Distance

I was going to wrap up this series yesterday, with my post on resources, but a comment left on Sunday's post got me to thinking that there's more to be said. Well, there's always more to be said, but I thought this in particular, was worth saying.

On the subject of the Altered Point of View technique, Lynn had the following to say:

"For myself, I have found that trying to understand another person's point of view was not always healthy for me. I think that is because of whose point of view I was trying to understand. For me, it was a way to make excuses for other people's hurtful behavior and that blocked my access to my own real feelings about it. I was a mess without knowing the truth of my feelings. I think it was easy for me to do that, though, because the feelings were so unpleasant."

Lynn brings up a good point. Sometimes, I think, if we try to process experiences before we are ready, it can do more harm than good, and it's not always easy to know when you have enough distance from an event to write clearly about it. It's one of those things where you have to trust yourself, I think. And I think, too, that as you write more and get to know yourself better, you get a feeling for when you have enough distance from an event to really analyze it.

I find that when I am actually going through an unpleasant experience, my writing tends to be more cathartic than anything--whining and complaining and raging against whatever or whoever it is that has hurt me or made things difficult for me. At that point, and often for a long time after, I am too close to the event emotionally to process it in a rational way. So I let myself whine without trying to analyze too deeply.

Sometimes you have to let yourself whine for a long time.

I am only now coming to the point where I can begin to face and process the events that led up to my bipolar diagnosis (the Big Mania), and that was nearly five years ago.

So writing about things that have happened to us in order to heal isn't just about getting it down on paper the minute it happens--although that catharsis is very helpful. Writing to heal is also about examining those events and your reactions to them after you have gained some emotional distance. Time helps us heal, and it gives us perspective.

How much time varies from person to person, but I think that if you are journaling regularly, you are going to know when you are ready. It's a question of learning to trust yourself.

Please note that I am not promoting this sort of thing as a substitute for therapy. If you're trying to process something really traumatic, professional guidance is definitely a good idea.

The Journal Series: Some Resources

One thing I've found inspiring through the years is reading other peoples' ideas on journal keeping. I've read a number of books on the subject, and found them all to be helpful. Sometimes I pick up a new technique, sometimes I just gain some new insight into what I'm doing. What follows is a list of some of the books on my book shelf. I've checked on Amazon (but I'm far too lazy to put all the links in here!), and all of these are available, although some of them may only be available used.

The New Diary by Tristine Rainer (my favorite)

Writing the Mind Alive by Linda Trichter Metcalf and Tobin Simon

Write Your Heart Out by Rebecca McClanahan

Harvesting Your Journals by Rosalie Deer Heart and Alison Strickland

Notes From Myself by Anne Hazard Aldrich

Keeping a Journal You Love by Sheila Bender

One to One by Christina Baldwin

Writing Your Authentic Self by Lois Guarino

At a Journal Workshop by Ira Progoff

I've only recently started hunting down websites on journaling and on writing to heal, so I'm afraid I don't have much to offer in that department, but the following sites look interesting, and you might want to check them out:

One Year of Writing and Healing

Self Help Healing Arts Journal

I'm sure there are others out there, I just haven't put much time into hunting them down yet, but if you should find something good, shoot me an email or leave the address in a comment.

The Journal Series: Some Techniques

In this installment, I describe a few of the different techniques that can be used by journal keepers to get to the heart of the matter. Sometimes it's easy to write about what's bothering you...other times, it's harder to get a handle on your thoughts and get the words out. At these times, it can help to use a different technique than a straightforward free-write.

Unsent Letters: An unsent letter is just what it sounds like--a letter that you write to someone else, which you don't intend to send. This technique is valuable because it allows you to speak to that person directly without fear of their reactions. You don't even need to write an unsent letter to a person...you can write to yourself in the past or future, you can write to a body part that's troubling you, you can write to a situation...anything you can name, you can write to.

Lists: Lists can be a very powerful tool. When I'm feeling down, I have challenged myself to come up with a list of 100 things I love. As a self esteem booster, you can write lists of things you are good at or things people like about you. Or you can list things you'd like to do in the future, goals, dreams, ideas...even a simple to-do list for the day.

Altered Point of View: Sometimes, when trying to understand a situation involving other people, you run into difficulties because the only head you are actually in is your own. This is where writing from an altered point of view can help. If you are in conflict with someone, or trying hard to understand where they are coming from, try writing about the situation from that person's point of view. If nothing else, it will give you a fresh perspective.

Dialog: A dialog is a conversation between two people...or two things. You can write a dialog between yourself and someone else or between different parts of yourself. When I was in graduate school and feeling the pressure of two opposing forces within, the poet and the engineer, I wrote many dialogs between logic brain and creative brain, in an effort to seek balance.

Tomorrow I'll finish out the series with a list of resources--books and websites that I've found helpful.

The Journal Series: Getting Started

All you need to get started is a pen and a notebook. Or some form of computer software--you can use a word processor and password-protect your files, you can use Life Journal, software specifically designed for journal keepers, or, as Gianna suggested in yesterday's comments, start a blog and keep it set on private so that no one but you can read it. You can start a blog with blogger or wordpress, and I'm sure there are others out there, too.

For those who want to go the pen-and-paper route, there are many fancy blank books out there, some with lines, some not. Personally, I prefer a spiral notebook with a sturdy cover, so I can write with it balanced on my knee if I'm out and about. I don't spent a lot of money on my journals because I always feel if I've got this lovely, expensive leather-bound book, then whatever I write had darn well better be worthy of that lovely, expensive leather-bound book...and of course, it won't be, will it? In short, I get performance anxiety.

So grab a notebook that appeals to you and a pen that writes nice and dark, and moves easily across the page. Open the notebook, put the date at the top of the page, and start writing. Don't worry about quality--we're not writing a novel or poetry, we're not making art here, we're not letting anyone else see this stuff--it's for your eyes only. What we're doing here is letting out feelings, we're synthesizing input in an attempt to make sense of the world, we're whining about our problems, and maybe starting to make sense of them and think about solutions...

The most important part of this process, at least in the beginning, is to give yourself permission to write badly, to write ungrammatically, to write in whatever manner you need to in order to get whatever it is out of your head and onto the page.

But what do you write?

There's really no magic formula here: you write whatever happens to be on your mind at the time. But I'll give you some thoughts...

Natalie Goldberg ("Writing Down the Bones") suggests you write in ten-minute bursts (using a timer), and give yourself writing prompts: Write about a sunset. Ten minutes. Go...Write about your favorite food. Ten minutes. Go...Write a about a time when you were unhappy. Ten minutes. Go... Depending on what areas you want to explore, you can make up your own prompts to get you started.

Julia Cameron ("The Artist's Way") suggests Morning Pages, which are three pages of longhand writing done every morning. The idea is not to edit or put a lot of thought into it, but just write whatever comes into your head, and follow your train of thought as best you can, keeping the pen moving the whole time.

A professor I had in college liked the "Ten Minute Autobiography" exercise. You have ten minutes to write your autobiography. You can give an overview or you can focus on one specific event, or anything in between, but you only have ten minutes. I've done it a number of times, and I've found it amazing how my focus shifts depending on what mood I'm in and what's been on my mind lately.

I have used a method in which I pose myself a question to get me started, such as, Well, Jazz, why are you feeling so edgy today? and then I write about that and try to explore what might be causing that feeling and what I might do to help myself.

I usually start my day with Julia Cameron's Morning Pages. I begin by writing, It's Saturday (or whatever day it is) and we have way too much to do today...or It's Monday and I'll be glad to get these kids out the door... And it just goes on from there, a steady stream-of-consciousness sort of thing. Sometimes it meanders into something big that's going on in my life, sometimes it's just a sort of a game-planning session for the day, but regardless of what I write, I always come away from it feeling ready to start my day.

The Journal Series: Privacy

If you are going to do journal work that allows true healing to occur, then you must have a safe place in which to do it. And that safe place must be a place that you and those who may live with you know is inviolate. Self-censorship does not belong in the pages of your journal, because if you are afraid of your work being discovered, you will not write the truth.

Privacy is a touchy issue, but I feel that it is essential to have a sense that the work you do in the journal truly is for your eyes only. Privacy not only protects you, but it protects others--because if you are going to write the honest truth, there is always the potential for writing something that will hurt someone else. And truth is essential to the healing process.

So how do we protect our privacy? Sometimes trust is enough. I trust my husband not to read my journals. I've been leaving them lying around ever since we shared our first apartment twenty years ago, and he's never read them. (I don't think he's interested enough, to be honest...) I do not, however, trust the kids not to get into them. Children are curious by nature. So now that the children are old enough to read and begin to understand, my older journals are kept in a locked file cabinet.

But what if you don't have a file cabinet that locks, or you don't trust someone in your household not to go snooping? Or what if you live with someone who would be hurt if they thought you were keeping secrets of any sort from them? What if you don't feel that there is any way to keep your journals private?

Since the journal serves its most important role in allowing you to get rid of and process feelings, destroying what you've written is one way to protect your privacy. I tend not to like this method just because it can take more than one session to work through something, and it helps to have your earlier work to refer back to.

I think the computer offers the best solution to the privacy issue. Microsoft Word allows you to password-protect your files. This is not an ideal solution--I've tried journaling this way, but the file soon becomes huge and unwieldy, and it's difficult to find anything unless you can recall specific phrases you used. There is, however, software designed specifically for journal-keeping. I use a software package called Life Journal. Life Journal allows you to keep your work private with a password, and allows you to assign topics to entries, the way you can in a blog. In fact, I use Life Journal to draft my blog entries, because of that feature. It helps me find things in a hurry.

Having said that, I must also say that I have a strong preference for a pen-and-paper journal. Maybe it's because that's how I started out. When I started keeping a journal and writing, there was no such thing as a word processor. There was me and my notebook and my pen. And there is something about the physical act of writing my words down, having my thoughts flow from my mind to my hand to the page, that is therapeutic for me. So I still keep a paper journal. But...if I am doing work that I feel might be too intense, or work that I would never in a million years want anyone to see, I go to the computer and call up Life Journal. Because when I'm working in pen and paper, I do censor myself. No matter what I tell myself about trust and all that...I honestly feel safer working in a password protected environment. And if I don't have that feeling of safety, the tough work isn't going to get done.

The Journal Series: Why Keep a Journal?

Many people think of a journal as a diary. But journaling to heal ourselves isn't so much about leaving a record, as in a traditional diary ("Hot and sunny today. Beans for dinner again. Don't like beans."), but more about learning about ourselves and those around us by detailing and puzzling through the chain of events that makes up our lives.

Journaling with the intent to heal is more about process than it is about product. Yes, it is nice to have a record of where you've been, and reading over the things you've worked through can be helpful, if only to remind yourself of how far you've come. But my sense of it is that the journal serves its main purpose in the moment and then you move on to the next moment, hopefully having gained some insight to bring along with you.

The journal was where I first began to suspect that I had a problem with my moods. It was where I raged and screamed against my bipolar diagnosis. It was where I debated the pros and cons of going off of medication against medical advice. And it is where I continue to go every day of my healing journey.

I journal because it helps me make sense of my life. It gives me a lot in terms of self-knowledge and self-understanding...and if I can be honest with myself--not always easy, even in one's own private journal, to be truly honest--I get more insight out of my journal than I ever got out of therapy.

So...why journal? Because it can be cathartic--the journal is a place to safely release emotions and thoughts that may not be appropriate for those around you to bear the brunt of. Because it can help you gain insight--by examining your thoughts and feelings, sometimes it's possible to identify negative patterns that need shifting. Because it can give you a map of how far you've come, and help you figure out where you need to go next. Because it can help bring order to sometimes chaotic thoughts and emotions. Because it can be a place to brainstorm and problem solve. Because it is always there for you, and it is never judgmental. For all of these reasons and more, a journal can be a powerful tool for healing and a powerful adjunct to talk therapy.

In coming installments, I'll talk about how to start a journal, and about privacy issues. Then I'll present some of the different tools that can be used within the journal to gain insight. And if anyone's interested, I could list some specific journal exercises to get you started. Let me know.

The Journal Series: An Introduction

This blog is supposed to be about a number of things, but primarily it's about a journey of healing. I'm not quite sure where I'm going on this journey, other than towards wellness, but so far it's been a very interesting trip. And in the end, I think that the journey itself is far more important than the final destination.

I've had some interesting companions on my travels. Bipolar disorder was one. A driving need to write my thoughts is another. And a need to "make stuff", to create, to use my hands, has also been with me for a long time.

The companion that has been the most influential, however, has been my journal. It has been there for me through all the years of teenage angst, through my breakup with The A$$hole, whom I almost married, through my finding my soul-mate in the Chief, much to my parents' consternation (the long hair and leather jacket didn't make a stellar first impression on my Proper British Father), through my not-always-thrilling foray into Mommyhood, through my bipolar odyssey, and now, through my recovery and healing.

The journal has been a huge part of my healing process, just as important, I think, as the healthy eating and the yoga and meditation. So I wanted to write a series on journaling, because I think it's a technique that others might find useful on their own healing journeys.

Those of us who are blogging about our journeys already know that writing can play an important role in the healing process. But I'm not sure that this is common knowledge. And the response I get from a lot of people when I suggest they try to journal their way through one of life's rough patches is often a look of bewilderment: But I wouldn't know where to start, they tell me. I wouldn't know what to write.

So in this series I'll talk about how to start a journal, what to write, and how to make the journal a treasured companion on your own healing journey.

Angry

I've been doing a lot of thinking about what I've written over the last few days concerning the possible connection between my bipolar symptoms and my use of the artificial sweetener aspartame.

If that's actually what happened--and I understand that only time is going to tell, if I remain episode free, and I also understand that even if I do remain episode free, I may never know for sure--am I supposed to angry at someone?

Like maybe the FDA, for allowing this dangerous chemical to proliferate through our food supply?

Or maybe the maker of Nutrasweet, for their advertising hype that would have us believe that eating aspartame was no different from eating milk and bananas?

Or myself, for putting that crap in my body for so long?

Or my psychiatrist, for having absolutely no interest in my dietary habits other than whether or not I was putting too much food in my mouth?

Frankly, I'm not sure how I feel. I'm relieved that maybe I have an answer that makes sense. But I also feel angry at all of the corporations that put dangerous chemicals in food in order to make a buck. And angry that the FDA isn't doing it's job. I'm angry at myself, and I'm angry at a mental health system that sees a checklist of symptoms, hands out life sentences and meds, and doesn't inquire any further as to other possible causes.

Hmmm. I suspect the focus of my Writing to Heal project is about to make a rather dramatic shift.

Labels: A Cautionary Tale

Labels damage us. They steal our truth.

Until my diagnosis, I was unique. I was different, and I was proud of that. I forged my own path, discovered my passion, abandoned some of the dearly held beliefs of my upbringing, and set the world on fire. Well...maybe not the whole world, but my little corner was burning pretty darn brightly, thanks.

I considered myself a student of my own mind. I knew myself better than a lot of people twice my age know themselves, and felt that I had achieved a level of comfort with myself and awareness of myself that many people never achieve. I knew that I had highly energetic, productive periods when my sex-drive was through the roof and I needed very little sleep. I knew that I also had darker, more contemplative periods when my energy ebbed, leaving me feeling empty and leaden. I never really thought of this as a problem. It was just the way I was, the way I knew myself to be. The way I was comfortable being. Obviously, my writing drove my moods. If I had a project I was excited about, my mood was expansive. And if I had passion for nothing, then I lost interest in life and depression set in. Curing it involved the search for the thing that would spark my interest and get me writing again. Perfectly normal stuff for me. Writers, after all, are supposed to be a bit screwy, no?

That all changed when I was diagnosed.

When I was labeled "bipolar" I became "bipolar". I did not, at that time, really understand what that meant. My doctor insisted that it meant that my episodes, which had always been fairly far apart--a few years, at least--would become closer and closer together as I grew older, and much more severe. He told me that in order to protect myself and my family from these terrible, uncontrollable moods that I would experience, I would need to be on medication for the rest of my life.

He told me to educate myself. So I read all the books I could get my hands on, and I learned that there was no hope for me. I would, as my doctor had said, have to be on medication for the rest of my life, and even if I took my medication faithfully, I would still suffer from these episodes, although they would hopefully be farther apart and less severe. In addition, it might take years before the correct combination of medications was found. And during those years, I would have to put up with medications that didn't work well, or that had intolerable side effects.

Of course, I cooperated; I was too scared not to. Becoming "stable" became my new goal in life. I became a student of my moods, diligently charting every change, pathologizing every fluctuation, and frequently calling my doctor for medication adjustments.

The promised "stability" didn't happen. The medications didn't help, and in fact they made things worse. I had more episodes in the two years I was on medication than in the six years before my diagnosis. The side effects were intolerable. I was unable to write, hand tremors stopped me from most of my artistic pursuits, my short-term memory was shot...

In those two years, I completely lost myself. I resigned myself to spending the rest of my life overweight, mentally compromised, and in chronic pain...but deep down, I never really accepted it, and part of me was still in there, kicking and screaming and rattling the bars of my chemical cage. I should have listened to myself. I knew my own truth, once...

I talked to my doctor about stopping the medications, or at least lowering the doses to help relieve the side effects. He prophesied Doom and Gloom: "You are an intelligent woman," he said. "You know you will ruin your life if you cut back on your medications."

It took my husband nearly dying for me to realize how out of touch I was with myself. When he had his heart attack, I found myself unable to respond to this life-threatening, life-changing event with anything other than apathy. It was time for a change. It was time to take a break from medication and figure out how much of a problem being "bipolar" really was.

Turns out that it wasn't. (And when they cart me away, raving and delusional, you may all nod sagely and say I told you so.)

It has taken a couple of years, but my writing is slowly coming back, working its way into the corners of my life, and becoming part of what defines me once more. "Bipolar" doesn't define me at all...even if I start experiencing those high energy/low energy periods again, "bipolar" doesn't fit. Maybe it never did.

Labels should be used with extreme caution.

All a label does is take away your own truth and replace it with someone else's.