Friday, January 9, 2015

Do You Hide Your Journal?

I miss journaling.

I used to journal daily for a long, long time. It felt fantastic, not only the physical aspect of putting words to paper but the "let it all hang out", purging part was even better. A release.

I have three beautiful journals. An old one, which is made of green, tooled leather with gold page ends that I carried in my purse forever. A red leather, feels like butter, one my daughter bought for me in Italy a few years back during her first backpacking trip to Europe, which I have used to document my travels. And a beautiful brown leather book that my sister-in-law thoughfully gave me for Christmas because she knows I love to write, and we are repairing a very damaged relationship.

My question to all of you is this:

Where do you keep your journal?

I want to be able to write without hesitation, unedited, freely, without worry, and I feel as if I can't because I am internally blocked by the thought that someone, anyone, will read it. Now, in this household, we do respect each others' privacy (mail, emails, texts, etc..), but something inside me still cautions, "Watch out! Fictional tales may be thought of as truth. Poems may be misinterpreted. Perceptions or memories of real life events may not be shared by others involved."

I talked about this very thing with my boss at work just yesterday. She journals too, and feels likewise about the benefits of journaling as a way to express creativity, record thoughts and feeling, and sort through life's many curveballs. Her suggestion to me was to write then feed the pages through a paper shredder. Immediately!

I can't do that! I need to go back, at some point, and re-read my words and review and ponder my feelings.

Therefore, I am left with the realization that hiding it/them is my only real option. It's all in my head, I know.

So enquiring minds want to know this:  Do you journal? If so, where do you keep them and do you worry or care if anyone reads your entries?

7 comments:

Unknown said...

The only time I ever did a journal was after the accident., it was more a therapy/grief thing. To tell you the truth I did it on my computer and password protected it. What I was going thru was so painful that I didn't want anyone else to read it. I still have it, years of really painful ramblings, I just can't seem to delete them although sometimes I think it would be a good idea. I can't read it either.
Other than that I have never nor do I feel the need to journal. I think that's why I started blogging Gina. It was sort of an extension of writing a therapy journal, but with friends..and a lot more fun :)

Jack said...

Trouble, some people are just trouble. I write as I will with the understanding that no matter what I produce someone may misunderstand or misinterpret it.

It is not ideal, but I would rather write than not.

Gina said...

Journaling under your circumstances would be a must for me for mental processing. There is no harm in leaving them where they are. Your words.

I "get" what you mean about blogging. I just don't feel I can "let it all hang out" here. That's just me. I am the guard keeper of my thoughts and emotions, which I hold in. But I'm trying. I still like handwriting so I would never give up journaling even though I've been on hiatus, it (obviously) seems.

Grateful for the visit.

Gina said...

I can't do that. Mental block there.

There's something in the handwriting piece for me. And the "unchecked" feelings I can explore.

Suddenly Susan said...

I don't hide my journal. I no longer have secrets.

Gina said...

For me, it's not about secrets. At all. It's more about writing with abandon. Wide open. I shouldn't worry or think about being judged about my thoughts, feelings, or what I write, but I do. Can't help it. I'm a private person striving to express private feelings not for anyone but myself.

Kenya G. Johnson said...

I never was a heavy journal"er". I always had more pretty ones with a page or so written in it then I turned it into a jot book. I have torn out pages before. While the deepest of feelings were still recorded for anyone to read, I did have them tucked away, in a box in my closet.