Confessions of a Journal Junkie

By Lynnette Horn

Hello...my name is Lynnette Horn...and I'm a journal junkie. By the looks of me you'd never suspect. Unless, of course, I've told you I'm a writer. Writers are all obsessive compulsive by nature, prone to addictions of every shape and color. So I'm sure if you knew, it wouldn't have surprise you in the least.

Even right now, when I'm supposed to have it under control, I salivate at the thought of taking a mental dump.  Oh, I'm sorry...am I being too crude? But there's no delicate way to put it. Every emotion, unspoken comeback, or wisp of wit is fair game for plopping onto the page. And the satisfaction! Do you know about the satisfaction? It's almost as good as sex.

I began to suspect I had a problem when I was writing constantly, but not getting anywhere. I thought it might be a form of writer's block. I asked my inner child what she thought, but she was still struggling with cursive so wasn't much help. Then the nightmare started. The same dream over and over. In it, shadowy figures chase me through the darkness. They corner me against a brick wall and shine lights in my face. Then a deep voice booms from beyond the shadows, "Put your hands on your head...Step away from the journal!" Each time, I awoke in a cold sweat petrified of losing my vice.

I sought counseling to no avail. From writing coaches to self-help gurus, everyone told me to journal more. It was the rage of the age; the magic elixir for whatever ails you. How could I resist? It was so easy...free writing to the max without risk. I didn't have to think about structure, continuity, plot development, grammar, or spelling. I could just let it flow, no holds barred. To top if off, the reviews were great from my audience of one.

Eventually, I came to terms with my demon. It wasn't easy, but I'm back in control. I still journal, but set a timer before I write my first word. I no longer consult with my inner child, nor go in for the latest self-help fads. And above all, I keep reminding myself that journaling is just a warm up for the real writing to come.

If you're a writer, you might be doing a bit of self-examination right about now. If you're worried you too might be a journal junkie, I've come up with some telltale clues. If you can answer "yes" to any of these, it's time to seek help.

You know you are a journal junkie when:      *  You treat strangers on the street like they were your personal psychoanalysts.      *  You  write for hours every day but never have anything to share.      *  You  list your inner child as a dependent on your federal income tax form.      *  Your stack of first drafts neither grows nor dwindles.      *  You've already filled by New Year's Day the gold-embossed, leather-bound journal your mate bought          you for Christmas.      *  Your only writing credits are notebooks stacked in boxes labeled in permanent black marker by year,          collecting dust in the basement.      *  You're charged an additional fee for an extra truck needed to haul your journals in a cross-country move.

"Ding!"

That's it...I have to quit? I can't quit now...I'm on a roll! Just a little while longer?  I promise I'll be good tomorrow. There's no harm in a few more minutes, now is there...I won't tell if you won't...it can be our secret, right?