And it isn't helping as much as it should

If you already journal

If you already write, you have most of the apparatus this book asks for. You may also have noticed that some journalling leaves you better and some leaves you considerably worse — and that the difference is not how bad the day was.

I Hate You—Don’t Leave Me by Sage Lyons, cover

Two things that look identical on the page

Both are long, both are honest, and they do opposite things. The distinction is the whole subject of this page.

Rumination on paper

Recounts the event again, in more detail, for the fourth time.

Processing on paper

Records the event once, factually, and then asks a question about it.

Rumination on paper

Stays inside the feeling and elaborates it. Twenty minutes in, you are further in than when you started.

Processing on paper

Moves between the feeling and something outside it — what happened, what else could explain it, what you would tell a friend.

Rumination on paper

Has no end condition. You stop when you are exhausted rather than when something is finished.

Processing on paper

Has a shape. A set of prompts, or a fixed length, and you can tell when it is done.

Rumination on paper

Written entirely in the present tense of the distress.

Processing on paper

Includes at least one sentence written from outside it, in a different register.

Rumination on paper

Leaves you flatter than when you began, reliably.

Processing on paper

Leaves you roughly level, occasionally lighter, and with something you can act on.

Rumination on paper

Produces pages nobody could use, including you.

Processing on paper

Produces two or three lines you could read out in an appointment.

A structure worth trying for a fortnight

If open-ended writing has been leaving you worse, this constrains it. Seven prompts, fifteen minutes, then stop even if there is more.

  1. What happened, in two sentences, as a camera would record it
  2. The emotion in one word, and its intensity out of ten
  3. What I assumed it meant
  4. Three other things it could have meant, plausible rather than charitable
  5. What I did, including anything I would rather not write
  6. What I would say to a friend who wrote this exact entry
  7. One thing to do differently, small enough to be checkable

Questions if writing is already your route

Including the one about whether to keep the old journals.

Should I stop journalling if it makes me worse?

Change the structure before abandoning it. Unstructured writing during a spiral is where most of the harm comes from; the same person writing to prompts usually reports the opposite effect.

Is a mood log the same thing?

No, and running both is worth it. The three-line log survives days when writing is impossible and produces patterns over weeks. Journalling does something the log cannot, and it needs more capacity.

Should I reread old entries?

Recent ones, yes — that is where the value is. Rereading a bad year during a bad week is a well-known way to lose a day, and it is worth deciding in advance which you are doing.

What do I do with years of old journals?

Nothing urgent. Some people find them useful with a therapist; some find them a weight. Neither keeping nor destroying them is a moral question, and it does not have to be settled this month.

Should I show any of it to my therapist?

Two or three dated lines, not the volume. A specific entry from Tuesday changes what a session can do; forty pages transfers the reading onto them.

Where does the book fit?

It assumes you keep notes and does not tell you how, so the apparatus is already yours. Chapter 25's year-long plan is the most writing-heavy part and the one you are best placed to actually complete.

Educational disclaimer: this page supports book discovery and general learning about borderline personality disorder. It does not diagnose, replace individualised professional care, or provide emergency support. If you are in crisis, contact local emergency services or a crisis line — see the crisis support page.