DIARY OF A DEMENTED HOME WORKER: Keeping things real this January

From southernstar.ie

By Emma Connolly

It’s week 97 and with Blue Monday looming large in the calendar, here are some of my typically down to earth suggestions on how to get, and keep, a good grip on yourself

• NEXT Monday has been declared as Blue Monday – officially the bluest day of the year. Era, it’s a load of old twoddle really but sure it’s handy enough to be able to blame your foul mood on something. And there’s still two more Mondays in the month to get through after that – five in total. Mother of God! Whose idea was that? Anyway in a bid to make Mondays less mournful, and to cheer up all the other days in between this month, I’ve compiled a few tips to lift the mood. I’ve taken it for granted that we’re all up to speed on the tried and tested (and soul-crushingly boring) things like drinking more water, getting fresh air, taking deep breaths and going for walks so my suggestions are a bit more well, basic for you to try, at your own risk of course ….

• Let’s start with this one – take to the bed for a day. Yes, one whole day.  If you’re not already self-isolating and possibly doing this anyway, take on the persona of a Victorian woman who needs lots of bed rest, can’t tolerate day light, and who won’t be receiving any visitors for 24 hours. Key to this being a success is to stock up on lots of treats in advance to binge on (multiple bags of toxic crisps like Monster Munch, a 2L bottle of Sprite, a whole Netflix season, face masks and those booties that promise to make your feet look less like hooves, that don’t really work, but still feel really nice). By bedtime you’ll probably feel a bit delirious (and properly sick from all the crisps), but at least you’ll be grateful to rejoin civilisation (and won’t want to see a crisp until March). For the rest of the month do the exact opposite and try to get up half an hour before the rest of the house. The early bird gets a head start on the day and all the rest (or at least gets to scroll Insta and have the first coffee in peace).

• Next, stay in touch with reality and finally accept that the chances of you winning the Lotto and starting a new life in St Barts are slim (slimmer than you were when you got married). You’ve a far better chance of winning your local GAA lotto so support that instead and at least you’ll feel like you’re doing something good for your community.

It’s normal to feel a bit down in the dumps at this time of the year but take some of my advice and January will be hoot. A bit of a hoot, anyway. At least some of the time.

• Now that we’ve that sorted, and sort of on a similar theme, stop fantasising about jacking in your 9/5 job and becoming a travel blogger (vlogger?). I know you read that article about that person who handed in their notice and is living the dream making millions doing exactly this (I read it too), but I definitely wouldn’t chance it until you’ve got the mortgage paid. And put the kids through college (where they’ll probably taunt you by studying vlogging). Book a holiday instead and get a grip on yourself.

• Without getting too abstract, realise you can’t control people, but you can control your reactions to them. The simple fact is that there are always going to be very annoying people in this world who will drive you to distraction. And somehow they seem even more irritating than usual in January, probably because you’ve stopped day drinking (if you haven’t yet, it’s time). Make a conscious choice not to blow up/freak out every time you encounter such a person/situation and you’ll start to feel a whole lot better. Repeat after me: ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter.’

• Oh yes, here’s a good one. Do something new. Mix things up. Experts say the novelty of doing something new has far-reaching benefits for your mental health and it’s true. It doesn’t have to be anything extreme like sky diving either, or Zumba dancing (shudder). It could be zip-lining though. Why should kids get all the fun? Or it might be something simpler like turning right, when you always turn left at a certain junction to see where the road less travelled takes; choosing a different beach or wood for your walk; eating dinner at the table instead of the kitchen island or changing your handbag for one you haven’t used in ages. Go on you mad thing!

• I tend to roll my eyes a bit when I hear people talking about self-care. Lighting a candle and having a bath? I’m going to need more than that, sorry. But how about trying to be a little more selfish instead? Yes please.  Start suiting yourself a bit more and see how good it feels. Obviously there’s a few non-negotiables like going to work (stop day dreaming about being a vlogger!), making the dinner and doing the school runs but for example if you really don’t feel like meeting someone – just say no! Hmmm, right now I can’t think of anything else you could legitimately say no to, as an adult, without being irresponsible or just a bit weird but there’s bound to be others if you think hard enough.

• Of course a really obvious one that most of us don’t do enough of, is to laugh. Not just a chuckle, or a polite giggle, but proper, uncontrollable skitting. The kind you used to do regularly in school, usually during a school mass. Something really completely random set me off the other night, I can’t remember what it was (well I can, but for legal reasons I better not share!), but I laughed for around three minutes solid and I felt lighter (emotionally, not physically unfortunately), even if my husband looked really alarmed. Find something to set you off. Dancing with the Stars maybe? Or YouTube clips of people falling over. They’re always gas. And sure if all that fails, there’s a bit of a stretch coming already (another walk anyone?) so the brighter days are coming, and in the meantime why not give Wordle a whirl? Look it up. You’re welcome.

https://www.southernstar.ie/life/diary-of-a-demented-home-worker-keeping-things-real-this-january-4236483

When catharsis and expression collide

From palatinate.org.uk

By Josie Lockwood

When I was little, I was a serial journal keeper. I would obsessively jot down each detail of my life: what the weather was like, who I’d played with at break time, which flavour of yoghurt had been in my packed lunch. I had one of those Girl Tech password journals, the garish pink and purple ones that you unlock with your voice. I wrote in it religiously, using an invisible ink marker pen. 

Looking back on it now, I understand why I was so insistent on writing in invisible ink. It promised an extra degree of privacy. I’m not sure what deep, dark secrets my seven-year-old self thought she was hiding, but being able to keep them concealed felt comforting. Indeed, this is the beauty of keeping a diary. It’s the only truly private form of literary expression. It’s an intimate process of writing to yourself, for yourself. A way of documenting your innermost thoughts, feelings and experiences, without having to share them with anyone else. 

I still keep countless little journals hidden around my bedroom. I have one where I keep all the cards and letters people have ever written to me. In another, I store mementos that I can’t bring myself to part with: ticket stubs, receipts, photographs, newspaper clippings. My favourite Moleskine notebook is filled with things people have said to me in passing that I don’t want to forget; a collection of minuscule moments that I crave to capture in time. Even the Notes app on my phone is clustered with song lyrics, compliments from strangers, and dream anecdotes. By writing down and pasting in pieces of my past that are packed with sentiment, I feel like I’m able to preserve them forever.

                                                Image: lilartsy via Unsplash.

At the start of a new year, I always start a new diary of some description. For 2022, I’m compiling a scrapbook. University passes by in a frenzied blur of summative essays and drunken nights out, and I want to make something that can help me slow time and remember all the good things that have happened. I’m never the same person at the end of the year as I was at the beginning. Each experience that unfolds along the way, whether it be good or bad, shapes and moulds me into an entirely different person. Keeping a journal is immensely cathartic to me, as it helps me trace my steps and watch the ways in which I’ve evolved. 

Writing a diary is an innately cathartic process. It offers the opportunity to slow down, to suspend precious moments in time, to reflect. It helps us cling onto the moments we feel nostalgic for before they’ve even finished flickering by. It allows us to look back at who we have been, and project forwards to who we wish to become. In a world that moves so quickly, a diary is the perfect way to distil yourself in each page that you write. Each line melts into the next, like a dot-to-dot drawing of the memories that have comprised your journey. By the time you’ve filled the last page of your notebook, you have crafted an item that is intrinsically you. It is your own unique experience; you are and will always be the only person to have lived it and felt it in precisely the way that you have. And that’s a beautiful thing to preserve.

A diary is an outlet. A place where you can be entirely honest, offload any anxieties or bitterness, and air the feelings that you don’t wish to articulate aloud. There is no fear of judgment or prying eyes. It is a platform that allows you to find permanence in the transient. And at the end of the year, it’s deeply rewarding to relive your highs, your lows, your mistakes, and your crescendos.

https://www.palatinate.org.uk/when-catharsis-and-expression-collide/

 

Consistently inconsistent: my battle with journaling

From nouse.co.uk

Emily Warner explores the benefits of journaling as a New Year's resolution

A quick Google search for, ‘the number of people who fail to keep their New Year’s resolution’ yields hundreds of studies that all show the same thing – we are not very good at sticking to our goals. The statistics vary but it seems that about two thirds of people give up their New Year’s resolution within the first month and I willingly admit that usually, I am a part of that majority.

Every 1 January, brimming with the excitement of a new year ahead and fuelled by a smattering of self-improvement ads, I sit down, sharpen my pencil, and vow to keep a diary. I don’t know if it is the part of myself that vaguely aspires to be a writer, or the beautifully rendered pages of calligraphy I see on my Instagram or perhaps a genuine attempt to reflect on my day, but regardless I have always wanted to commit to journaling. Inevitably, life and its pragmatism intervene and within several days my goal has dissipated into an ether of unfulfilled resolutions from years past. I watch as it fades into the abyss alongside half-hearted attempts to take up Zumba, run a marathon, or drink six litres of water every day and resign myself to failure.

Not this year. This year, I have set myself a goal which is impossible to fail and that is to be consistently inconsistent in my approach to journaling. Let me elaborate.

                                               Image Credit: Emily Warner

It all began with a notebook. Not a fancy bullet journal with gold-leaf embellishments and neat boxes of lines, demanding to be filled. Nor a diary with a date scrawled across each page, dictating how much and which day to write (if I am doing exams, I will need a LOT of room to complain about them). Just a simple, lined notebook. My downfall, I realised, was the sense of obligation that accompanied keeping a diary, making the process feel more like a chore than a pleasure. Therefore, I need only eliminate that pressure by writing intermittently instead of daily. This meant that if I was stressed, or excited, or happy, I could pour out my verbal diarrhoea onto the page uninhibited (and save the ears of my flatmates who are usually forced to hear it). Alternatively, if my biggest achievement of the day is ‘I bought a 32p banana at Aldi’, I don’t have to write anything at all that day. This method has the bonus of making my life seem way more exciting than it really is because every entry is usually a melodramatic monologue about something.

I am not just a crazy English student though, there is lots of scientific evidence showing the benefits of journaling in many different aspects of life. Firstly, there are obvious psychological benefits that emerge from the process of free writing (essentially the act of writing in an uninhibited way without judgement – so the opposite of writing an essay). It is also sometimes known as stream of consciousness, a term that first emerged in 1980. This practice involves writing without expectation so that the writing produced is often raw and emotional and encourages the beneficial process of emotional confrontation and reflection. As a result, stress levels decrease and mental illnesses such as anxiety, depression, PTSD and body image distortions can be alleviated, feelings which most students are familiar with in some form.

Improved well being in itself is a huge advantage of writing, but the benefits do not end there. Science has shown that journaling can lower blood pressure, boost the immune system and increase our ability to fight serious illnesses. That means you can stop popping your vitamin D pills and pick up a pen instead; an essay a day keeps the Covid away (to clarify, this is not backed up by scientific evidence so don’t be too quick emptying your medicine cabinet). Keeping a diary is also important for memory function because the act of recalling and recording the day employs our working memory, associated with absorbing and applying new information.

On top of this, journaling increases our self-awareness and invites reflection on our relationships, sometimes helping us to negotiate issues and strengthen our bond with others. You can say that next time someone accidently reads your journal and finds a long list of complaints, perhaps a page dedicated to ‘top ten ways my mother drives me mad’ or ‘reasons my friends are all irritating cows’ (not that I’ve written anything like that before). In total sincerity however, this space to reconsider the way you interact with those around you can be helpful for navigating the messy world of girlfriends, boyfriends, best friends, parents, Terrence from next door and whoever else you are dealing with. It is a complicated world out there.

Perhaps I am a slightly dramatic person by nature, but I find the act of writing down my emotions and anxieties an effective way of managing these feelings.  The phrase ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’ is frequently thrown around but sharing a problem is not always possible. Sometimes we don’t want to talk or we don’t have anyone willing to listen but I promise you, an empty page is always happy to share the burden. So why not try starting your own journal? Write your way to better memory, better health, better relationships, and a happier mind and if you don’t notice any differences, at least you’ve written a bestseller by the end of it (if any of you do get to publish your journal, I’ll be expecting a vote of thanks in the acknowledgments). I think that sounds like a New Year’s resolution worth keeping.

https://nouse.co.uk/2022/01/13/consistently-inconsistent-my-battle-with-journaling-

 

Eagle Archives, Jan. 10, 1940: Local woman's diary-keeping record surpassed by former resident of Berkshire Massachusetts

From berkshireeagle.com

From the Jan. 10, 1940, Eagle 

Fifty-one years is a long time, but keeping a diary for that period kept the championship for that particular type of journal in the possession of Mrs. Henry J. Eldridge of 19 Harvard Street for only one week.

Today it was learned that George C. Dunbar of Westfield, a former resident of this city, had been making daily notations pertaining to himself and his family for 59 years. As Mr. Dunbar stated in a letter to The Eagle:

“I am not willing to have a woman beat me out, even though it is a leap year.”

The one time Pittsfield man who was employed by the Pittsfield Electric Company as an engineer started to chronicle his life story on Jan. 1, 1881, and hasn’t missed a day since. He has all of the diaries except for the first four which he recently destroyed, retaining their record.

As the years passed, Mr. Dunbar’s children became interested in his painstaking efforts, and requested that he provide each one of them with a copy. Therefore in 1932, he started to type up all of his diaries. He used carbon paper, and made three copies, one for each of his children.

According to his figures, the history covered 184 closely-written pages, and contained 86,400 words. Actual typing required 210 hours.

He wrote a dedicatory preface to each of his children, and then had the manuscript bound in book form under the title of “My Diary Book, 1885-1933.”

With the passage of eight more years, Mr. Dunbar feels it soon will be time to add the intervening records in manuscript form as a supplement to the original volume.

All of the important events of his life, the activity of his children from birth to maturity, and most of the important national and local happenings of the past half century are included in the diaries. There is a very complete section on the World War, and a detailed story of the March (1888) blizzard.

For many years, Mr. Dunbar was supervisor of the Westfield Power Company. He is a brother-in-law of Frank Howard of this city, having married Miss Celestia Howard at her South Street home Oct. 10, 1888. Rev. I. C. Smart, then pastor of the South Congregational Church, officiated.

https://www.berkshireeagle.com/history/eagle-archives-jan-10-1940-local-womans-diary-keeping-record-surpassed-by-former-resident-of/article_b3d0b0ee-6d76-11ec-94b4-f3fe7d1ab62c.html