The Practice of Journaling

                 Today I thought I would focus on the practice of journaling.  I know I spend a lot of time sharing how important writing is in my life. That’s just it. Writing is a critical part of my healing, and I hope that I can share its impact with others.

                  I write in many different forms including poetry, journaling, blog writing, letter/email writing, memoir, and article writing. Each is helpful for me in its own way. What is it about journal writing that is so beneficial? A quick online search will produce many benefits of journaling. These include stress reduction, improved mood, enhanced clarity, self-awareness, emotional regulation, gratitude and positivity, memory improvement, problem-solving skills, creativity boost, progress tracking, accountability, time management, improved immune function, better sleep, and pain management. That is a lot. Of course, not everyone is going to experience all these benefits. Journaling is an individualized practice, and the benefits often match the need of the person journaling.

                  Enough of what the internet says. Let’s look at personal experience. I have been journaling for close to 40 years. I started in my early teens. At that time, I did not know what I was doing. Writing was an escape for me. It allowed me to get dark thoughts out of my mind. It gave those thoughts a place to go. A lot of that early journaling was in the form of poetry. Some poems were quite long, sort of like a typical journal entry. As time passed journaling became my safe space. It was the place where I could let my emotions and thoughts loose. Looking back, I think writing in journals saved my life. It allowed me to rid myself of dark thoughts and gave the self-harm and suicidal thoughts a place to go.

                  Journaling isn’t always dark. Often, it is a place where I can sort things out, a place where I process my thoughts. As I have developed coping skills through years of therapy, I have leaned on my journal as a place to further develop ideas discussed in therapy. I also use it to help me process difficult times. When I have been frustrated in my career, I have journaled. That practice has allowed me to find clarity. It also allowed me to vent when I needed a place to scream my frustrations into the world. It has also provided space to share the good times and the positives I have experienced.

                  Without journaling my mental health journey would look quite different. In fact, I believe it may have ended tragically years ago, if I hadn’t had journaling. That is a testament to how powerful journaling can be.  It is also the reason journaling will always be a part of my mental and physical health toolkit.

                  When I was diagnosed with cancer journaling took on an enhanced role. My relationship with depression and anxiety became complicated by cancer. New fears and anxieties developed. I needed a place for all the thoughts about my illness to go. Early on in my diagnosis, death seemed like a real possibility. Outside of my oncologist, my mental health team and my aunt, I couldn’t really talk to anyone about the very real possibility that cancer could take my life. So, I journaled. I wrote every feeling and thought in journals. I had a lot to write. So, I went through a few journals. Journaling lifted the fears. It allowed me to seek understanding and provide some of it on my own. Journaling loosened up the thoughts and fears in my head. Perhaps more importantly, journaling provided a space for my thoughts to reside. Once made concrete in my journal I was able to share some of those thoughts and fears with people who could help me. In this way journaling provided healing. Sometimes I wonder if I would have made it to the other side of cancer if I hadn’t journaled. I will likely never know the answer to that question, but I have a pretty clear idea as to what the answer is. 

                  Journaling also provides a space to tell our stories. Even if we don’t realize it, each one of us wants our story to be heard. It may just be a part of our story, but we all have something to share. I learned a lot about this from Sandra Marinella’s insightful book, The Story You Need to Tell. I had first read it a couple years before my cancer diagnosis. After I was diagnosed, I found myself returning to her book with an even greater understanding. My whole life I have been journaling my way through illness. At times it has been mental illness. Other times it has been physical illness. Through it all I have been telling my story. Mostly the story has been for my eyes only, but at times I have shared that story. I hope what I have shared has helped others. I know telling my story through journaling has helped me immensely. 

                  Journaling has led to other opportunities for me. This blog grew from my journaling. My five published books stemmed from my journals. I have written articles and published poems. A lot of what I write starts in my journal. I know I will journal my way through the rest of my life. My journal will be there in good times and in tough times. It will be there when I am healthy and when I am battling illness. The practice of journaling is just that, a practice. Journaling is something I need to keep doing. It is something that you might find healing and I encourage everyone to give it a try.

 

Beach Therapy

 

                  Yesterday I spent the day at South Carlsbad State Beach where my friend, Sharon, was camping with her family. She invited me down for the day to enjoy the ocean breeze and sunshine. Looking out over the ocean I felt a sense of peace. I needed this day. My depression has been creeping back in and I have felt myself starting to spiral into the darkness. I thought of yesterday as beach therapy.

                  The beach has been a place to escape for me since my college days. I had the privilege of going to college on the Redwood Coast. It was there that I learned that the beach could calm me. Perhaps it is something in the breeze that soothes me. The waves rolling onto the sand quiet my thoughts. I can escape the running monologue in my head when I am on the beach. The beaches on the Redwood Coast had the added benefit of the redwoods towering to the East. These gentle giants protected me. Their green needles creating an image of safety in my mind as the scent of the ocean filled me. 

                  While I was at the beach yesterday, I wrote. Actually, I was surprised to realize I had written 13 and half pages. That is quite productive for a day on the beach. My writing was a mix of poetry and journaling. The poems were uplifting. I was seeing the beauty in the ocean as I watched the waves gently coming ashore.  As I journaled, I felt the poison of depression and anxiety flowing through my pen. The pages held the darkness that has been building up over the past several days. I tried to envision the words that emerged flowing out to sea with the waves. I’m not sure how successful I was, but I made the effort. That is what is important. 

                  As I walked on the rocks that covered the water’s edge, I felt the unsteadiness of the loose rocks beneath my feet. That unsteadiness holds a similarity to living with depression. With depression I am rarely sure when I will have a good day. I step into each day hoping that the darkness will fade for a while, but I know it is always lurking. When I stepped on the rocks, I didn’t know if I would lose my footing. In the same way, I take a step forward and wonder if I will find the light of healing or if depression will darken my day. The unsteadiness is draining. I am always trying to steady myself. That is depression. There is so much uncertainty. The one thing that is certain is that the darkness hurts. 

                  I picked up a few rocks and brought them home with me. Perhaps, I’ll paint them or start a rock garden. I wanted something tangible to remind me of the peace that floats in the air near the ocean. I think I need to escape to the beach more often. It definitely awakened the muse within me as I wrote several poems. I am never freer than when I am writing. Even when the painful thoughts emerge on the page, I am healing because those thoughts are leaving me. My pen ushers them out of my mind. 

                  My day on the beach was therapy for me. We need different types of therapy when we struggle with depression or other mental illnesses. Talk therapy helps, but sometimes I also need the silence of the beach. I need the ocean breeze and salty air. Both types of therapy carry me forward into the light of healing. I know I must return to the beach more often. I can fill my journal on the water’s edge, release all the thoughts and feelings that are pent up inside of me. 

                  I’ll end this post with a few Haiku poems I wrote on the beach:

 

A moment to breathe

Inhale the ocean’s clean air.

Settle into rest.

 

 

 

Waves lapping the sand.

Salty foam over my toes,

Cooling my lost soul.

 

 

 

I write on the beach.

Pen poised to capture hope

As waves crash on rocks.

 

Welcoming 2024

           I do not believe in making New Year’s Resolutions.  Every time I have tried to make one, I have fallen short.  I think it is better to set an intention for the new year.  My intention for 2024 is to allow myself to heal both mentally and physically.  I have a lot of healing to do.  2023 took its toll on me.  Depression and anxiety ruled a lot of the year.  Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer took control of the rest.  It has been a journey to say the least.  Battling two illnesses at the same time forced me to fight.  It required me to reflect on a lot.  It has changed me.  

            As 2024 starts I am still battling two illnesses, but overall, I am in a good place.  Chemo worked and I was able to stop chemo.  I am still receiving treatment.  It is targeted treatment.  My understanding is that it is intended to keep the cancer cells from replicating.  This treatment is easier on me than the chemo.  I am grateful for that.  

My mental health has taken a dip recently.  I am hoping to get that healed. I will discuss TMS treatment with my team and hope that I can physically handle going every day.  My mental health team will be there for me and help me through it.  I trust that they will get me back to a better place. 

            As you can see, I am still healing.  That is why my intention for 2024 is to allow myself to heal.  One thing I learned in 2023 is that I cannot do it on my own.  I must be willing to reach out for help.  I have a great team.  My mental health team, my oncology team, and my primary, who is basically part of both teams, have been there for me.  I trust that they will continue to be there.  I am grateful for all of them.  I know I am lucky to have them.  I am still fighting cancer and depression.  I will likely battle to some degree for the rest of my life.  

            In 2024 I am going to focus on my healing.  I am going to allow that focus to guide me to leading my best life.  For most of my life depression has controlled my thoughts.  It has told me that I didn’t want to live.  It told me that I deserved the unhappiness I felt.  It told me I was lost and alone.  Depression has been a powerful voice throughout my life.  Cancer barreled in and changed some of that.  It tried to take my life, but cancer didn’t win.  It made me reflect on my life.  Through that reflection I have learned that my life is worth living.  

I need to make some changes.  Those changes will hopefully lead to me finding joy in life.  Some of those changes are little, but some of them will be big.  The big changes will require me to trust myself.  I will likely lean on my support system at times in ways I have never done in the past.  There will be ups and downs.  I will continue to fight cancer and depression.  Some days will be harder than others.  That is okay.  I need to allow myself to have difficult times.  It is a part of life.  

By setting the intention to allow myself to heal I am giving myself permission to do the things I need to do to be healthy in all aspects of my life.  I must fight the depression and the cancer.  I also need to focus on finding joy in life.  I have been granted another chance at life.  I want to make the most of that in 2024.  I will do what brings me joy. I will also accept that some days I will not be okay.  That is okay.  It is a part of life.  Acceptance of the rough days is a part of the healing process.  I have really come to understand that this past year.  It has been a difficult lesson.  Healing takes effort.  It also requires a person to accept help.  We need to understand that it is okay to not be okay.  Once we accept that, we can reach out for help.  I have a lot of people helping me.  These people make a difference in my life.  There are people that can make a difference in each of our lives.  I hope that in 2024 more people reach out for help and more people reach out to help. 

Just because I am battling illnesses doesn’t mean I can’t help others.  That is the purpose of this blog.  I am hoping to encourage others by sharing my story.  I know that right now my audience is not as big as I would like it to be, but I need to trust that it will grow in time.  I do my best to publicize this blog and am grateful to those who help me spread the word.  This blog is part of my healing.  When I write I am empowered.  Writing has always given me strength.  So, in 2024 I will continue to write.  Hopefully, this blog will grow.  I want it to help others suffering from depression and cancer.  I don’t have all the answers.  I am learning each day.  I feel called to this work.  I know that for now it will have to happen with my blog.  I am not well enough yet to get out there and do more, but I am headed in that direction.  I hope to make it happen in 2024.  That Is part of my intention.  Helping others is a part of my healing.  

So, as we enter 2024, I am going to remain focused on healing both my mental and physical health. I don’t know what the year has in store for me.  The depression and cancer control a lot, but I will do my best to heal and make a difference for others.  

            

A Little More Gratitude and a Cancer Poem

            Last week I shared all the people I am grateful for in my life.  Today I want to share a few things I am grateful for and then leave you with a poem I wrote this past weekend.

            First, I am grateful for TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation).  There have been two posts on this blog about TMS.  It has made such a difference in my battle with depression.  I don’t know where I would be without TMS.  It is a treatment that works for me, and I know will be a part of my life.

            I am also grateful for chemotherapy.  How can I not be grateful for something that is keeping me alive?  It may seem a little strange to be thankful for something that makes me feel like crap each week, but it is doing its job.  It is killing my cancer.  As sick as I feel I am grateful that the medical knowledge is available to treat my cancer and that I have a chance to survive.

            Another thing I am grateful for is the ability to write and experience the healing power of writing.  For as long as I can remember, writing has been a part of my life.  I would be interested in knowing how many poems I have written in my life.  Writing is a healing tool.  I am grateful that I can express my thoughts and emotions in writing.  I am grateful that I have this blog to share those thoughts and emotions with all of you.  My books are another source of gratitude for me.  Each one has brought me healing and allowed me to share my story with others.  

            So, I have a lot to be grateful for. Expressing my gratitude has helped me remain positive as I battle depression and cancer.  Don’t be surprised if you see gratitude pop up on my blog again in the future.  

            I also wanted to share a poem with you.  This poem is about the cancer, more specifically fighting cancer.  At times I get down because as much as I try to fight, I often just do not have the energy or stamina.  My body is weak from the fight.  When I start to feel down about needing so much rest, my Aunt Holly reminds me that even when I am resting, I am fighting.  As I thought about it made a lot of sense.  My body is in a fight for its life.  It needs time to heal.  That is what happens when I am resting.  So, even when I am resting, I am fighting.  That is where this poem came from.

 

Cancer Chose Me

 

Cancer chose me.

I did not choose cancer.

Cancer is ravaging my body.

Leaving me to fight.

At times I am weak, but still I fight.

Battling cancer takes all my strength.

 

Cancer chose me.

Its poison attacking my organs.

I fight back with a different poison, 

A poison meant to kill as it heals.  

My body is a battleground between cancer and chemo.

 

Cancer chose me.

Some days I must rest.

I cannot actively fight every day. 

Learning that it is okay to rest has been difficult,

But it is something I must accept.

 

Cancer chose me.

I did not choose cancer,

But I chose to fight back.

Meet the cancer head on

And fight for my life.

 

 

            Check back on Thursday.  I will be reflecting on how depression affects my fight. Depression can affect battles with any illness.  I will share my perspective. 

Friends and Journal-Making

            A few weeks ago, my cousin, Sara, asked if I wanted to see some of my friends.  I haven’t been able to do much, partly because I don’t have the energy and partly to protect my immune system.  She offered her backyard as a safe space for me to gather with friends.  We decided to make it more than just a get-together.  I asked my friends to join me to decorate journals that we could donate.  Aunt Holly and I made 60 journals.  Making the journals was fun.  It was also relaxing.  We stitched the journals with pink ribbon.  I had about 40 more blank journals that I had purchased for a talk I was unable to do.  This gave us a good supply of journals to decorate.   

This past Saturday Sara hosted a brunch for me.  My friends came. It was great to see them.  Maria brought a card from some of my former students.  Their sweet words brought tears to my eyes.  My students are the part of teaching that I miss.  I’ve written to the students and let them know that my goal is to beat this cancer and be at their high school graduation.  

After a delicious meal of bagels, fruit, and salad, we got busy making journals.  As we decorated, we laughed and relaxed.  It was great to see my friends.  It was an enjoyable afternoon.  We had a lot of supplies: stickers, stencils, markers, and colored pencils.  Thank you, Nancy for adding to the supply stash. Everyone got busy.  We chatted as we worked.  There was laughter and smiles.  For a while I was just one of the girls.  For a short time I forgot that I was the woman with stage 4 cancer.  

Our goal – to decorate journals for people with cancer or mental illness.  Since I suffer from both illnesses, they are important to me, and I want to help others who are impacted by these illnesses.  We used stencils, stickers, and markers to write messages of hope on the journals.  We pasted my poem “A Whisper Above the Water” on the inside cover of the journals.  We decorated about one hundred journals.  These journals will be donated to four places, the cancer treatment center where I am receiving care and chemo, the cancer support community where I am receiving support, the TMS center where I have received TMS treatment, and an out-patient mental health facility where I have shared my story several times with patients and staff.  

Why journals?  Writing has always been healing for me.  It has been my coping strategy throughout my battle with depression and now writing is carrying me as I battle cancer.  I want to share writing with others.  Maybe writing in journals can help others in their battles with mental illness and/or cancer.  I stumbled upon writing as a teenager, and I am still writing in middle age.  Explaining what writing does for me is difficult.  It is a release.  The thoughts that depression and cancer cause to build up in my head find their way onto the pages of my journal.  Once the thoughts are on the paper, I have an easier time processing them.  

A few years ago, I read an incredible book, The Story You Need to Tell, by Sandra Marinella.  It helped me understand how writing heals.  I return to the pages of this book a lot as a reminder that writing heals.  Donating journals is my way of helping others.  I am hoping that by donating journals I can encourage others to try writing and maybe find some healing.  

Saturday was a wonderful day.  It took a lot out of me physically.  I am drained as I write this the next day.  I’ll deal with being drained.  Seeing my friends and doing something to help others was worth it. 

I am grateful that my friends and family helped me with this project.  I plan to keep making and donating journals.  It is a small thing, but it is something I can do.  

Thank you: Holly, Sara, Carol, Maria, Jessica, Bernie, Lisa, and Sylvia.  

Check back Thursday for a post about the idiocy of the health care system.  

 

 

Whispers Above the Water

             Today’s post is a poem I wrote this weekend.  Writing in general, and poetry in particular, has always been healing for me.  It has been one of my coping strategies throughout my battle with depression.  Now, I am writing to deal with both the depression and the cancer.  Writing allows me to get the thoughts out of my head and onto paper.  This makes them concrete, which allows me to process them in a more productive manner.  

            I share this poem today to express what I am going through.  I hope that others find strength in my words.  If you would like to read more of my poetry, I have published four books of poetry and a memoir.  Check them out at your local bookstore or Amazon.  Just search for my name. There are also links on my website www.ginacapobianco.com.  

            One of my friends mentioned that maybe there is a book waiting to be written in the journey I am now on.   Who knows? Maybe I will find my way to write that book.  

 

 

Whispers Above the Water

 

The ebb and flow of emotions.

The ripples become waves at times.

I try to hang on,

Ride each wave out,

But the emotions are powerful.

Their intensity overwhelms me.

I consider letting go,

Allowing the waves to drown me.

Something within me whispers.

I hear a faint voice telling me to grab hold.

The voice whispers that

It is not my time.

I reach through the waves, 

Grab on to hope.

The voice grows stronger.

I hear it emanating from within me.

The voice echoes around me,

“Don’t give up!”

I am buoyed by the words.

Now, my head above the waves,

Battle gear in place,

I am now ready to fight.

 

Hair Loss

            As I mentioned in my last post, I have cancer.  It has been a difficult time.  I have had trouble writing.  Usually writing is healing for me.  I have found it hard to sit down and write.  Cancer and the treatment are taking a lot out of me.  However, I am determined to write because I know it provides me with an avenue to release what I am thinking.  

            In the past couple of days, I’ve written two poems.  I am going to share one with you today.  First, let me provide a little background.  I knew I was going to lose my hair.  To maintain some sense of control, I had my hair cut short.  I thought I’d get ahead of the hair loss.  I thought it would take some time before I my hair started falling out on its own.  Unfortunately, I was wrong. Hair is already coming out.  It has hit me hard.  Somehow, the hair loss makes the cancer more real.  I don’t know how to explain it.  So, I wrote about it.  

            Here is the poem:

 

Hair Loss

 

I have always hated my hair.

Tangled and frizzed,

Matted into hidden knots.

Curls others envied,

I looked upon as difficult to manage.

Now my brown locks are gone. 

My hair is falling out.

No more curls.

A glance in the mirror,

I appear different. 

My face no longer hidden by long curls.

I have lost a part of my identity.

I knew it would happen.

A side effect of the medication I need to live.

I understand,

The loss means the medication is at work,

But it reminds me how real this disease truly is. 

Hair loss should not bring such tears.

Still the tears flow.

My mind questions what is happening within my body.

On the outside hair falls out.

Inside medication and cells are at war.

A battle that will determine if I live or die.

My tears flow as my hair falls out.

Reminding me that a killer disease dwells within me.  

The hair is symbolic, but my tears are real.

Cancer has grabbed hold of me and

My hair loss will not allow me to forget. 

A Poem About Living with Depression

            I am going through some difficult things right now and couldn’t write a post for today.  My mind is just not in the right place to write.  Not being able to write actually adds to my struggle.  I hope you will forgive me for not having more to post today.  I hope to have one written for Monday.  For today, I am going to share a poem that I wrote in the past about living with depression.  Please share your thoughts in the comments section.

 

Depression

 

Depression hurts.

It is a silent pain.

Often hidden from others.

A smile on the outside masks the torment within my mind.

Words spin in my head.

Thoughts that will not stop create a barrage that drags me down.

No one hears these thoughts.

Others cannot comprehend the pain caused by these nagging words.

Depression is a lonely condition.

One that so often a person battles alone.

Out of fear that others will not understand, I isolate myself.

The depression gathers strength.

I worry others will notice and think that I am weak.

Despite knowing the depression is real, 

I fear others will belittle my affliction.

Society does not recognize the reality of depression.

People tell me to cheer up.

They do not understand that I would if I could.

There is no on-and-off switch.

I will continue to fight depression.

Some days the depression will win;

Other days I will win.

A lifelong battle with an invisible illness.

Depression hurts, depression debilitates,

But my silent battle preserves.

 

Check back on Monday, July 24^th for my next post.

 

Where did Bent, Not Broken Come From?

        The title of this blog came from a poem I recently wrote.  Writing poetry is a healing tool for me.  I have been writing poetry since I was a teenager. I don’t know what made me pick up a pen and start writing poetry, but I have been writing poetry to cope with my depression for over 35 years.  It is healing for me.  Writing allows the thoughts depression creates to leave my mind and flow onto paper.  Once the thoughts are on paper, I can process them in a healthier way.  A lot of my poetry is very dark.  It is full of the pain depression causes.  I believe I must write it.  Some may view it as a negative, but for me it is healing.  

I have also found the light in my poetry.  At times I can write about how I am healing.  I view depression and healing as darkness and light.  The light is the healing.  In some of my poetry I can see myself reaching out for that light.  It is often distant, but it is there. 

The poem I am sharing here, demonstrates the intertwining of dark and light.  It is where the title of this blog emerged.  

 

Bent, Not Broken

 

The darkness surrounds me.

I have grown accustomed to its chill.

At times I do not believe I can continue.

Cracks form within me. 

Tears fill my eyes.

Afraid, I lean further into the darkness,

Overwhelmed, ready to give up.

The darkness envelopes me.

Still, I try to focus on the light.

I am reminded I am not alone.

Each time I reach out,

My hand is held, and I am strengthened.

Golden streaks of light fill the cracks created by my bending.

Healing seems possible when I am held.

I bend, but do not break.

More flexible than I realized.

Bent, not broken!

 

 

Depression causes us to bend.  We come close to breaking.  Sadly, many people do break.  With help we don’t have to break.  It is a battle.  It is not easy.  Depression pushes and pushes, causing us to bend.  Depression hurts.  As long as we are fighting, as long as we are reaching out and accepting help, we can keep from breaking.  Being bent is painful, but like the tree on the cover of this blog, it is still beautiful. 

 

Check out my webpage for access to more of my poetry:

 

https://www.ginacapobianco.com

Check back in a couple days for my next post: What Is Depression?