The October Journal

It’s 5:31pm on the day I intend to post this blog. I’m stumped.

Funnily enough, this month I set a challenge to journal every evening before bed. My intentions were pure; I was to reach this day and have a fully-fleshed prose to make up an absolutely stellar October Journal. And what have I got? Nothing.

You see, in my continued attempt to become more mindful, I thought writing would be the best way to unpack some of my mental clutter. I fear, unfortunately, that all I have done is create more.

I can’t say I didn’t know it was going to happen. I’ve lived my entire adult life thus far on the cusp of a serious existential crisis. I sensed last month that I was toeing into risky territory. Instead of pushing it to the side like I usually would, I accidentally let it slap me hard in the face.  

When I write, my internal monologue becomes a reality. It can be consuming – to see your thoughts in front of you. It gives them life. It can be horribly daunting. To write down, “I am confused all of the time,” makes the statement ring truer and louder. For the days to follow, I think “Yes! I’m confused! This is a disaster! Un-confuse yourself… NOW!”. Then, I’ll write, “I am so content and happy,” and I’ll have this incredible outlook on life.

Sometimes, if I really let myself fall into the catharsis of writing, my hand moves independently. I’m not even consciously aware of what I’ve penned down until I read it back. That’s the power of thought, I suppose. It’s consuming. There’s also hope in that: I have faith that somewhere inside of me, I do know all the answers.

Coincidingly, I’ve started investing in my health care. Intended to be fully physical, I was taken a little off guard when my practitioner introduced emotional therapy. It opened up a whole new can of worms. Writing thoughts down is intimidating enough; saying them out loud personifies them completely. The initial session was both the highlight, and most confronting moment of the month.

October: it’s been topsy-turvy (a bit like this blog post, I suspect). Right now, I feel like I’m abseiling deep into the canyon of my existential crisis. Perhaps this is me unpacking. There’s definitely a shift happening, that much I can feel.