Moody? I Take Pills for That.

Summary

The author discusses the evolution of their journaling practice, from a simple mood journal to a more complex personal record that reflects their life experiences, including interactions with editors, personal health, and emotional well-being.

Abstract

The author, who is also a writer, initially rejected the idea of keeping a mood journal as they felt it was too simplistic and did not align with their expressive writing style. Instead, they continued to pour out their thoughts and emotions into a single journal titled "Mood Journal," which has become a repository for more than just moods. It includes reflections on personal encounters, such as the author's first experience with an editor at Medium, which they found challenging. The author also touches on the influence of medication on their emotional state, revealing a dependency on prescriptions that they have tried to manage, and the desire for a clearer mind. The piece concludes with the author's musings on the nature of healing and the sharing of personal processes, suggesting that the journal may be more aptly named "A Knowing," although they are still contemplating a suitable title.

Opinions

The author initially found the concept of a mood journal to be reductive and not in line with their identity as a writer.
The author's husband dismissed their complaints about the editorial process, implying that such challenges are a normal part of working with editors.
The author has mixed feelings about the psychiatric medications they are prescribed, acknowledging a dependency and a sense of being emotionally muted by them.
There is a sense of frustration and a desire for clarity and personal growth, as the author wishes to be more than just an observer of life.
The author is ambivalent about sharing such personal reflections publicly, yet they choose to do so in the hope of connecting with others who may have similar experiences.
The author is in the process of redefining their journal, considering it as a space for deeper self-awareness and healing, hence the contemplation of renaming it to something more profound like "A Knowing."

My Journal

Many years ago, I got a suggestion from a psychotherapist I was seeing to begin keeping a mood journal. I was already writing in a journal, and it seemed to me that keeping a second journal was silly. I was already pouring out my heart (including my moods) in the first journal. I wasn’t about to start writing something like Monday: Moody, Tuesday: Good mood, Wednesday: So-so mood. I was a writer, for pity’s sake. I’ve got lots to say, and something as terse as Good Mood or Bad Mood just wasn’t going to do the trick.

What I did do, though, was to title the document I was writing in “Mood Journal.” This morning, after I had looked at my stats at Medium, I fired my mood journal up. I realized that I needed to address how I felt about having an editor at Medium actually talking to me. It was the first time, and the process seemed to me to be grinding. I talked to my husband about it, and he rolled his eyes at me, saying something along the lines of, “I’ve had to work for years with people like you. The whining!” So, I shut up about it and figured this must be what it is like to work with editors. I’ve never done so before. Thankfully, all the pieces I’ve submitted to publications here at Medium have been much different. Nobody said anything other than, “Thank you!!”

Okay, so that happened. But as I fired up my Mood Journal today, I realized I resented calling it that. I think it might be time for a change. So, sure, I can get moody, though I don’t really think talking about my experiences with having an editor is anything other than working through my feelings. I guess the being moody part takes me right back to childhood and my father threatening me that if I didn’t change my attitude, he’d do something about it.

I’ll give you something to cry about.

So, what would you do? Would you call your journal a special name or just a plain journal? It is definitely a private place. It’s also a place for me to record stuff that happened, like appointments for my husband, who has been having the same freezing episodes as Mitch McConnell and for which the doctors can’t find a cause, or for my neighbor who has the ability to drive me absolutely batshit in the space of a nanosecond.

The pills I am on are the ones I am hooked on. I didn’t realize that would happen when I first started taking them. Actually, there are two prescriptions. I weened myself off of Prozac, though the doctor hollered at me for doing that, that was years ago. I didn’t like how it made me feel like life was passing me by, and I was just an observer.

I just feel like I am muted, and something inside of me is bubbling up and protesting. I don’t know what it is, though I wish I could be clearer-headed than I am right now.

I don’t know if you realize that this is some really private stuff I’m talking about right now. Why I am publishing it is to see if you might be feeling the same way. I am just sharing my own process of healing, which I don’t think is ever going to end.

Thanks for reading. Ah, something just occurred to me. I might call my journal “A Knowing.” Somehow, that suits me better than “Mood Journal”. Actually, it sounds like annoying. I’m going to have to keep thinking of a better name. Please Clap, Comment, Follow, and/or Subscribe.