Writing as Therapy
When your notebook is your only true friend
I have struggled with my mental health throughout my life. While in the past I found attending counselling and psychotherapy hugely beneficial to my wellbeing, in the last couple of years I have reached something of an impasse with these paths to healing.
Despite reaching out for some initial sessions, I found that the attentive listening of therapists began to feel stale — it felt as though there was something false about it. I came to understand that what helps me the most is when people are real with me and this often can’t happen in the context of therapy due to the professional obligations which therapists are bound to and the style of training they have received.
What I have needed more than therapy is a true friend. But I have been unable to find one. I think true friends are rare and I’ve found that since my suicide attempt in 2023, those who I used to turn to for support have distanced themselves from me and even acted with hostility towards me. I don’t doubt that residual anger issues related to my time in intensive care played a part in this, but I have felt abandoned by the people I loved the most when I needed them the most.
One thing that has remained consistent during this challenging period in my life has been my inclination to write, and the small army of notebooks on my bookshelf prove this. I have always found that writing thoughts openly and honestly helps me to feel at peace in a way that’s difficult to describe.
Sometimes, when writing in my notebooks, I will have a conversation with God. At other times I will write diary-style entries in them. And I admit that I obsessively plan my time and brainstorm ideas to a possibly absurd extent, but this helps me to feel on top of things. I find being organised (when the Lord grants me the grace of achieving this) brings me so much peace and joy and writing is the channel that enables me to do this.
If you’ve ever read back through an old notebook you’ll know that this can be a very enlightening experience. We don’t always see things in their true light when we’re experiencing them, but notes capture moments to the extent that when we revisit them this can have a grounding — even healing — effect. A curious facet of life is that we go through seasons, each with their own atmosphere and other peculiarities, but this can often only be grasped and understood in retrospect. The thoughts and ideas that we put down on paper capture something of the states of flux we go through on our life journey, and revisiting them can help us to regroup and move on.
For the above reasons, writing is presently my best and possibly my only true friend. I am so grateful to God that He gives me the motivation and inclination to write. Without my notebooks and pens I know this season of recovery would have been immeasurably harder and I may not have survived. They may not be quite the same as deep and true human connection, but writing moments are holy moments and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.