Grow Through What You Go Through: Journaling for Grief, Illness, or Stress
Life, in all its complexity, will inevitably present us with seasons of the deepest difficulty. We’ll face the crushing weight of stress, the isolating journey of illness, or the profound fog of grief. The good news—you are not alone, we are all on this ride together. In these moments, our internal world can feel chaotic, loud, and impossibly heavy. We often feel silenced by our own overwhelm, unsure how to even begin processing the tangle of emotions. Talking about it can be daunting, making it feel too big, too close.
But what if you had a safe, private, and infinitely patient space to hold it all?
This is the promise of a journaling practice. Even if you already journal from time to time, it may be inspiring to mindfully design your practice, and set deliberate intentions. It is not about perfect prose or even complete sentences. It is the simple, radical act of meeting yourself on the page, exactly as you are. The journal is a sanctuary—a container built to hold the unsaid, the painful, and the confusing. It’s a tool for externalizing the chaos, giving it shape, and, in doing so, loosening its grip on you.
This article is your guide to starting or reconfirming that practice, finding your way from the fog to the page, and discovering the relief that waits there.
At the bottom of this page, you’ll find my gift for you: a FREE ebook version of the Be Happy Journal, a companion and guide to help you on your journey.
Why the Pen Is a Powerful Ally
As the saying goes, you “grow through what you go through”, meaning, the difficult days teach us far more than the easy ones. If you’re not uncomfortable, you’re not growing. Those words are super true, but when I’m going through those times, I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t care less about growth. Having accidentally discovered the power of journaling, however, I now know that it is an essential tool—and the way through.
When you're navigating a significant life challenge, your mind is often in survival mode. Journaling moves you from simply reacting to your pain to engaging with it. And once you engage, you can understand and move through it.
It externalizes the internal: Thoughts and fears swirling inside your head feel abstract and enormous. When you write them down, they become tangible, concrete, and finite. You can look at them instead of just being in them.
It calms the nervous system: The simple, rhythmic act of writing by hand can be inherently meditative. It slows down a racing mind and can physically reduce your body's stress response.
It provides a "compassionate witness": The page is the one place you never have to apologize, perform, or worry about burdening someone. It can absorb your deepest anger, your most "unacceptable" thoughts, and your most profound sadness without judgment.
It reveals your own wisdom: When you write freely, you often surprise yourself. The practice of "thinking on paper" allows you to bypass your internal censor and access deeper insights, resilience, and clarity you didn't know you had.
How to Begin: Your First Five Steps
The most significant barrier to journaling is often the belief that you have to do it "right." For me, I also felt it was a bit “self-indulgent”. But its power, if you dive in, will free you of both of those notions. There is no right way to journal. Let's dismantle that barrier immediately.
Find a "Good Enough" Vessel: Do not wait for the perfect, leather-bound notebook. A spiral notebook, a legal pad, or the notes app on your phone is all you need. The goal is to start, not to be perfect.
Set a Tiny Timer: Aim for just five minutes. The biggest mistake is vowing to write for an hour, which becomes intimidating. A five-minute "brain dump" is achievable even on the hardest days. Consistency is far more powerful than duration.
Forget the Rules: This is not your high school English class. Grammar is optional. Punctuation doesn't matter. Spelling is irrelevant. You have full permission to use bullet points, fragments, single words, or chaotic streams of consciousness.
Date Your Entry: This is a simple but powerful act. It grounds you in the present moment and creates a record of your journey, allowing you to look back later and see how far you've come.
Just Move the Pen: If you don't know what to write, start there. Literally write, "I don't know what to write," or "This feels stupid," or "I am so tired." The act of moving the pen will prime the pump, and soon, other words will follow.
Prompts to Guide You
If you're staring at the page and feel frozen, prompts are a gentle way to begin the conversation. Choose one that resonates, set your five-minute timer, and write without stopping to think or edit.
When You Feel Overwhelming Stress
The Brain Dump: What are all the things swirling in my mind right now? List every single one, big or small, until your mind feels quieter.
The Physical Scan: Where in my body am I holding this stress? (e.g., tight shoulders, clenched jaw, pit in my stomach).
Circles of Control: Draw two circles. In the inner circle, write "Things I Can Control." In the outer circle, write "Things I Cannot." List them out. Spend the rest of your time writing about one small action you can take from the inner circle.
When You Are Navigating Illness
A Dialogue with Your Body: If my body could speak to me right now, what would it say? What does it need to hear from me?
Objective Observation: Without judgment, simply describe your physical state. "Today, my knee is aching." "Today, I feel a deep fatigue in my bones." Just naming it can create distance.
Finding "Good Enough": What would "good enough" look like for today? What is one small act of comfort or care I can offer myself right now?
When You Are Moving Through Grief
The Unsaid: What do I wish I could say? Write it all down in a letter. (You never have to send it; the page is the recipient.)
Honoring a Memory: Write about one specific, simple memory. What did it smell like? What sounds were there? What did you feel? Allow yourself to be fully present in that memory for a few minutes.
Permission to Feel: In this exact moment, I feel... (Give yourself permission for the answer to be "numb," "angry," "confused," "sad," or "all of the above.")
The Journey, Not the Destination
Journaling will not magically erase your stress, cure your illness, or end your grief. That is not its purpose.
Its purpose is to be an anchor. It is a commitment to show up for yourself, even when it’s hard. It is a place to be messy, broken, and human. The page will not flinch. It will hold you. So, grow through what you go through, and find how journaling for grief, through illness, or everyday stress can change everything.
You do not have to navigate the storm alone. You have a sanctuary waiting for you. All you have to do is pick up the pen and open the door.
-LC
