“I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.”
- Anne Frank
Writing is . . .
. . . self-expression. Broadly it includes journaling, storytelling, poetry, and songwriting.
. . . exploration. It allows us to connect to the deepest, most sacred parts of ourselves.
. . . art, freedom, communication, power, and most importantly for our purposes:
Catharsis: release of emotional tension, as after an overwhelming experience,
that restores or refreshes our spirit.
- American Heritage Dictionary
Writing, in different forms, has been a vital part of my journey.
Journaling
At the early stages, just the act of consciously acknowledging what was going on by writing it in a journal was a huge scary step for me. It felt dangerous to put my deepest fears and wishes in writing. Over time my journal has become a safe place to describe and explore past traumatic experiences. It has also allowed me to see patterns in relationships, past and present.
I’ve learned it’s important to be open to whatever arises when journaling - and to approach it with curiosity rather than judgement (that one’s still a work in progress).
Directed writing
I was skeptical and didn’t really understand how to even approach writing to (or from) my inner child, or writing a script for the support I wish I’d received at key times in my life. It took me a while but as I’ve been tearing down my walls and dismantling my old survival skills, I’ve been able to face what I experienced as a child. Writing about what happened, how I felt, and about the love and support I wish I had received has been vital to my growth and healing.
Writing then burning a letter
The idea of writing a letter to someone who caused you deep pain only to burn it seemed, frankly, a bit dramatic to me. Then I tried writing one of those letters only to discover that it would take several drafts written over time for me to fully express what I needed to say. Some things that felt so important in the first or second draft seemed to run out of steam and feel less significant in later drafts. Other things came up only after I’d worked through the easily accessible thoughts and feelings in the early drafts.
Turns out it can be freeing to fully and clearly express yourself without having to deal with a reaction or response from the person who hurt you so deeply in the past.
But before you burn that letter, try reading it out loud . . .
The start of COVID happened to coincide with me feeling ready to do some deep work. So on the last day stores were open I ran out and bought a roll of blank newsprint to cover my dining room table.
Then I spent months writing about my childhood and everything I had experienced. I would sometimes write for hours at a time, then sometimes cover it up and ignore it for a week or two.
I often went back to earlier pages to add notes as I made new connections and understood the big picture of my life better. Soon the table was covered with thick layers of paper
I didn’t have a plan when I started other than this need, this drive to get it all out on paper where I could see it. I started with colored pencils but that was too small and too faint - I switched to colored pens and then big markers. Some things I was writing about for the first time and they were big, difficult things that needed space and size to match their significance.
I started to feel a sense of relief after a long or difficult period of writing. Like a small weight had been lifted. Of course I wanted it to happen faster and was frustrated that I found myself returning to write about certain things over and over again without feeling that relief. I took that to mean there was still more emotion, more pain or fear or grief that needed to be expunged, so I kept writing.
Poems started to emerge and I was able to get my head around all that I had experienced for longer periods without feeling overwhelmed. I was making progress and starting to feel hopeful. Then I realized that for me writing wouldn’t be enough - I needed to speak . . .