I sit at the computer. words spill out. Memories flooding until I can’t take them anymore so i stand and pace the cluttered floor. Then I sit again and write, memories pouring, bleeding onto the page.
Nothing for the blog.
Nothing for a book.
Just words for me, blood test on paper, so i can inspect my own soul and make sense of my life.
I write to see where I’ve been, to help understand things that have happened to me, and to decide where i’m going next.
I lay it all out on paper and stare at the research i collected from my own head, to answer the question, Who Am I?
And slowly, the picture comes together, to help me understand myself.
this is what i’ve been doing, journaling memories to make sense of the past and jotting down dreams and hopes for the future, to discover who i am and where i come from. the memories are not such that i am ready to share them in public, but it’s been helpful. it’s a useful practice and i recommend it, especially if you have so many thoughts and memories you feel like your head will explode. journaling can be like using Dumbledore’s Pensieve. does anyone else journal like this?
Lana Hobbs the Brave 
Yes – not so much journaling sometimes but working on my memoir that I eventually want to publish. It helps though to write it when it’s pushing at the insides of my soul wanting a way out. Or when I’m sitting, crying, on my bed and have no other way to express the tears.
Writing can be such a release.
Agreed. Sometimes it’s the only way I can get things to pour out. Spoken words just don’t cover it as much.