Is Writing Really That Therapeutic?

If you've ever Googled for ideas on how to feel better about something / how to let go / how to deal with your emotions, you'll have seen 'write it out' as a suggestion in…every article you open. I'm not even saying 'almost every' because this is something that is always prescribed…which, wait, should mean that it definitely works, right? Which in turn can only mean one thing: the title of this article was just clickbait.

If you're thinking that…c'mon! Give me a little benefit of doubt!

But no, it's true. It works and I just wanted to get you to read this…okay, no. I'm kidding. And I'm sorry about all the mucking about- sometimes I get verbal diarrhea and my own brand of humor amuses me enough to not delete this upon editing. But, let's get to the point - by which I mean, let's explore this together so that you understand where I'm coming from when I tell you what I think. (No, of course I'm not going to tell you right away…I do want you to read).

Let's look at why writing is supposed to help, first.

1. When you write, you try to make sense. So as one tries to clearly express an emotion and the circumstances surrounding it, the exercise puts things into better perspective.

This isn't the status quo, verbatim, of course - this is me trying to phrase it in a purposeful way. And I think it makes sense. Sometimes, we're just angry, or sad, or we 'don’t feel good in general', or the world 'just' seems like a dark and crappy place. We're advised to write about it, so that as we try to express ourselves, we come to the 'why'. The idea is that, in the process, as we try to systematically catalog our thoughts, we'll come to identify any flaws in our thinking, or perhaps realize that what we thought was a great 'valid' reason to feel angry is not that big of a deal, after all.

2. It helps us feel like we've expressed ourselves.

Sometimes we just cannot say something out loud, but most of us (me included) seem to be unable to healthily swallow down our thoughts, so we itch to 'let it out'. Writing is one way to do that.

3. Writing buys time to 'cool off', which is sometimes all we need. (Again, I'm paraphrasing, but I think it's got a corollary logic to 'sleep on it'.)

The basic idea is, once you've written it out, you have a clearer head and (probably) fresher perspective not clouded by the itch to 'let it out' - and that helps with healing.

I don't think I can argue with these, and with personal experience to back me, I'll tell you that there is some truth to this. These 'immediate benefits' do come, to a certain extent…but of course the story doesn't end there. (Does it ever?)

Let's address the whole 'perspective' angle first. It's true that when you try to write things down, you're forced to slow down and rationalize, and while sometimes it's true that you'll calm down, this is actually a double-edged sword. Why, you ask? Well, I've found that it's just as possible to start picking on other little details and events that you had let slide. Now that you're in a mindset of pouring it *all* out, you run the risk of fixating on other things that 'support your case', because sometimes you might not like what the story you're writing is saying about you.

We take ourselves too seriously, and oftentimes we'll not like that it sounds like we're that petty, so there's a chance that we'll start nitpicking on other things to make us sound less terrible in our own eyes.

Basically, 'It's worse than I realized' is just as possible an outcome as is 'It's not as bad as I thought'.

Then there's the issue of 'buying time to cool off'. I think this is an oversimplification of 'all' we need to do. Sure, sometimes our tempers flare and we get annoyed, but I don't think that these incidents are ever 'bad enough' to have us thinking that we need to 'journal it out'.

Please feel free to point out how wrong I am here if you've got deeper insight into this (because I really don't) - but I think that when something is 'bad' enough to make us want to write, it's a 'big' issue. It's not just an overreaction that some rational part of our brain realizes, and therefore, it's not something that's entirely in our control. Do you see where I'm going with this?

I think we tend to get 'that' stressed about things that, in general, cannot be 'solved' by 'cooling off'. Ergo the logic of using writing as a buffer to 'cool down' doesn't help. In this case, it's about perspective. If you're going to think a situation is hopeless/worth getting upset over regardless, you're not achieving anything by writing about it - here, a paradigm shift in thinking is more important than any words you could write.

In fact, I think sometimes that writing it out opens floodgates, although of a different sort. I'm someone who's still trying to learn how to stop at 'this is what it is', and many a time, I've found myself exploring possible outcomes as I write. I don't think I'm the only one who does that, don't worry, but when I'm writing, I end up going there more often than if I'd just been mentally ranting. (It's not just me who does this, right?). And you know how writing forces you to consider details and all that? The same thing happens - I end up writing the possible outcomes in even more detail, and even if I 'conclude' that I'll be okay, I then find myself hyper-aware in real life, trying to decide which of my imagined scenarios is playing out. (Spoiler alert: It's always #3). This kind of behavior isn't something I advocate for, and I do believe that having written about it has a big role in getting me to act that way, so that's a pitfall of writing it out.

I don't know if I'm succeeding at driving home the point of how big an issue I think this is. It's like when you get a song stuck in your head and it keeps playing on repeat, times hundred. And at this point, it's not just 'annoying', it's draining. I could try to explain what that feels like in better detail, but that would require me to put myself back into thinking about what that headspace feels like, and I'd rather not. Take my word for it, alright? It's bad.

So, at this point, you might wonder where I'm going to pitch my tent - on one hand she says it's good for this and that, but on the other…well, it's obviously not that simple, although if I had to pick a one word answer to the question 'Is writing therapy healing?', it would be 'no'. I alluded to this earlier, and I'll say it again/more clearly - I don't think anything other than acceptance can pave the way to healing. Not writing, not even gym therapy or talk therapy would do. They might help with bouts of emotion temporarily, but ultimately, I don't think you can find inner peace and calm unless your head is in the right space.

Again, I'm drawing from the grand ol' sample size of me, but I've found that I was wrong every time I'd written out a lengthy letter or poem and thought that I was 'done'. I'd think I had 'gotten it all out of my system', but after a few days I'd think about the situation again, with the same perspective, and find a replenished well to tap.

That said though, I am glad I wrote all and as much as I did - so I'd encourage you to do the same. There is truly no better 'indicator' to look back to when you're further along in your healing process, to see how far you've come. And yes, that day does come. It's oddly comforting, really, to look back at words you've written, and feel like you're slipping on a new skin, because you're no longer exactly the same person who wrote those words.

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1. I'd like to know your take on this.

2. May is Mental Health Awareness Month. I've been posting things that tie in with this, which you can access if you scroll lower down (on mobile) to the 'Related Posts' bit and peruse away.

3. Thanks for giving me your time to read this! I do appreciate it :)