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I didn’t start journaling because I had it all together. I started because I didn’t. My brain was spinning, my sleep was wrecked, and my thoughts were loud but unclear. Therapy helped a lot, sure—but journaling? That was the thing I could do alone, anywhere, without pressure. And despite all my “this probably won’t help”…

I’d bought a stack of pretty notebooks about two years ago, full of good intentions, but they stayed untouched. It wasn’t until I started therapy a year ago—working on motivation, confidence, and getting unstuck—that I found myself desperate for a way to keep track of my progress. One morning, still half-asleep, I made my way…