Medicine (noun) – something that affects well-being. Well-being (noun) – The state of being happy, healthy, or prosperous.
The first instinct that prompted me to begin journal writing was the preservation of my sanity.
Once, we lived on a closed street named Sergeant Close in Kaduna state. The cul-de-sac nested a school, two shops and rows of compounds. Ours was the last compound on the left side of the street, just after my uncle’s compound.
My uncle taught English, and Literature in the school I went to. At home, his bedroom was my library and wonderland. Often, I would climb the wall separating our compounds, crawl down into his and walk into his bedroom. I would get lost in his colossal dossier of CDs, inexhaustible issues of Watchtower and Awake magazines, and chunky volumes of McGraw Hill books. I learned the names of Greek and Roman gods in his bedroom, memorized big words in the dictionary to impress my friends in school, and played song after song from CD collections I couldn’t possibly exhaust in that lifetime.
One day, after over three years of such incredible adventures in my uncle’s bedroom, I woke up to a cacophony of screeching furniture, shuffling feet, and loud and indistinct chattering. I peeked over the wall and saw furniture, kitchen wares, boxes, and personal articles being carted away into a Moving Van. My uncle was moving out of Sergeant Close.
I had been aware of his plans to move out many months prior, still, it felt sudden when the day finally arrived. I felt my whole world collapse around me. I was losing my favourite space. Dragging the overbearing weight of my thoughts and emotions, I headed back to my room, slammed the door, and flipped to the very end of one of my school exercise books.
Channelling all my teenage rage, anxiety and confusion, I wrote. Lines after lines I scrawled until I had pages of raw, unabridged monologues of all the things I felt.
That was the beginning of my long years of journal writing.
Between 2014 and 2024, I’ve kept ten fully documented personal journals, excluding the ones lost in the process of moving, and the ones burned to expunge the weight of their secrets. Holding up the pile of journals in front of my bedroom mirror, I thought, ‘This is insanity’. But in truth and practice, writing those journals is what has preserved my sanity over the years.
Mark Salzman in his book, True Notebooks: A Writers’ Year at Juvenile Hall, wrote:
“When I can’t make up my mind about something, I start a notebook. I use it to think aloud, I fill it with questions, arguments, and reassuring clichés”.
When I started my first journal in 2009, I was an angsty teenager trying to make sense of why my uncle would want to move out of our beautiful neighbourhood, taking with him something I held so dear. Since then, my journals have become my therapist, daily companion, planner, and so much more.
To help understand what a journal is, I’ll quote Randon Billings Noble, from her essay, On Keeping a (Writing) Notebook (or Three). She wrote:
“… There’s a difference between a diary and a journal… It’s like the difference between an autobiography and a memoir. In a diary, you record each day’s events and in a journal you write whatever you want about your day whenever you want to write about it”.
Journal writing then is simply the act of writing inside a journal.
Although Billings offers a basic explanation of what a journal is, a casual reader or a beginner wishing to get into the practice of journal writing may still be at a loss. Many a time, people wonder; what (to write about), how (often to write), and when (to write).
Again Billings offers some insight from her essay:
“…in my journal, I write down what happens to me, what I’m thinking about, occasional random observations, lists — the usual stuff you’d write in a journal… I often look back on journals to remember a certain time or place or person or line of thought — although I never write in my journal with this in mind”.
There’s never a strict rule of what you can or cannot write in your journal. You make the rules.
For example, on February 17, 2024, I wrote:
I saw Breath of Life this morning. I cried. Many times.
And that was my only journal entry for the day.
Thinking about how frequently one should write in a journal, I find that when I’m documenting a specific progress or project I’m working on, I journal every day. At other times, I may journal as sparingly as 12 times a month (that’s how many times I’ve journaled in June 2024).
Furthermore, as to when one should write, I find myself writing whenever I feel the urge to. 02:14AM, 06:29PM, 03:36AM. Whenever I find myself awake and the thoughts are strong enough to propel me, I journal. However, Julia Cameron, the author of The Artist’s Way, suggests something called ‘the morning pages’. This practice involves 3 pages of free writing every morning where you unburden your mind of everything.

Reflecting on my journal writing practices, I’ve realized one of the beauties of preserving well-documented journals is looking back and seeing your evolution. How you use your journal, and the things you put down in it, are all forms of self-history and a means to self-discovery.
Around 2022 I began a month-end reflection. On the last day of every month, I’d answer questions like:
-what lessons did I learn this month?
-what were my wins this month?
-what challenges did I overcome this month?
-what will I do differently next month?
-what was I grateful for this month?
-what were the highlights of this month?
Further, adopting an idea from a Twitter post in 2023, I began writing letters to myself. November 3rd this year, marked exactly one year since I started those letters.
Also this year, I began a weekly reflection where on the Sunday of every week I’d answer questions like
-do I like my life so far?
-am I enjoying any of these
-what gave me the most satisfaction this week?
-what gave me the least satisfaction this week?
One of the gems I discovered fortuitously late last year was a book titled Creative Guide to Journal Writing: How to Enrich Your Life with a Written Journal, by Dan Johnson. The author wrote about different journal writing exercises like free writing, free association, visualization, list making, unsent letters, etc. Through the book, I learned the names of some of the journal practices I had adopted over the years. For instance, the letters I’ve written to myself since 2023 are unsent. All the mindless scribblings in my journal are free writings. Names of books and movies I write down to see later, are lists. And my weekly and monthly guided reflections could be loosely described as free associations.
Journal writing has profound benefits. For some it boosts confidence, for others it provides relief for the loneliness epidemic plaguing society today. One of the things that give me the most satisfaction is sitting in solitude with my journal and writing. Ernest Hemingway once said, “… When I don’t write I feel like shit”.
Like Mark Salzman, journal writing helps me organize my thoughts. It also helps me close thought loops. By writing down recurrent and pressing thoughts I’m able to stop ruminating over them compulsively, and by extension, I sleep better. When I don’t write in my journal, I become scatterbrained and incapable of making decisions and plans. In essence, I feel like shit.
In its unique way, journal writing when properly utilized, is a potent medicine for self-preservation.

Edwin Mamman is a sonographer and writer from Kaduna, Nigeria. His work has been published on KAFART’s The Revue, African Writers Space, and is forthcoming elsewhere. He blogs under the pseudonym LareWrites on WordPress and contributes to Life’s Essentials blog. When he’s not working, reading, or writing, Edwin enjoys movies, music, and walks in nature. You can find him on Twitter at @edwinmamman and reach him via email at edvinmamman@gmail.com.