Most of My 'Morning Pages' Are too Depressing & Embarrassing to Share - But Here Are a Few Anyway
Some examples of what I can manage to pass along.
So the PTSD has been winning since last night and through today. As I wrote in my last entry in my antisemitism and culture series, a depressive episode was dogging me through the day as I interviewed an incredible group of Zionist activist students:
And yesterday evening, after I no longer had the distraction of doing “real journalism” conducting those interviews, oh did I go down hill. I hadn’t been that down in weeks, as
will attest. And then the “black dog,” as Winston Churchill described his depressive moods, carried on through the day. I’m hoping that I’m finally better now this evening to make some progress on my article and the next installment I have planned in the antisemitism and culture series.In the meantime, last week I discussed one of the tools that I’m using to try and cope with the PTSD, a creative exercise known as “morning pages” in which one of the first things I do each day is write 3 handwritten pages sort of vomiting up whatever is on my mind. I wrote about it here:
And noted:
I’m leaning toward just sharing my morning pages with you all here on the substack most days. I’ll probably photograph the pages I wrote this morning since I’m so proud of the thoughts that eventually came to me and how the practice made me feel better.
Well, now that I’ve engaged in the practice in the days since starting it, I’m seeing why author Julie Cameron insists that such pages be private. They’re usually so embarrassing! When I get up first thing in the morning I’m usually at my worst for the day, and overwhelmed. Also, usually the first 2 pages of so end up being fairly uninteresting and mundane. But occasionally I manage to draft something some might find intriguing. Here are some examples.
Here’s the title page, I always title my journals with something big and pretentious:
I ended up writing 5 pages that first day, rather than the minimum 3, and the last 3 I do feel comfortable sharing with you all so you can understand more what I’m going through right now, how new phobias have made me a prisoner in my own home:
Some of those cynical thoughts may be familiar to those of you regularly following this Substack’s proclamations, like this recent piece explaining why I no longer believe in political parties:
The next day, on Friday the 13th, my first few pages were a kind of throat-clearing again about my worries for the day before I concluded with a kind of prayer, as I have found myself doing often with these entries:
I articulated similar themes the next day in my Saturday Jewish mystical podcast:
On Saturday in my morning pages I gave myself a goal which I managed to accomplish by Monday
I managed to pull together my collection here:
I concluded on Saturday noting how much drugs no longer seemed to affect me as they once had and my understanding why so many afflicted with PTSD chose to embrace much harder substances or succumb to suicide, both of which I’m resisting:
In my Sunday entry I noticed my intent to draft this piece here:
On the question of who has the authority to “gate keep” who counts as a Jew I explained the dark answer which I had come to:
Later on Sunday I decided to write in this journal again to try and calm my hyperarousal, and I decided to share the pages on Instagram:
On Tuesday I reflected on how hurt I felt for my partner Mike Kilgore, whose ex-wife was still stalking him online and harassing him, now discovering this Substack and his writings about he’d improved his life, and leaving cruel taunts and lies smearing him:
I again ended this entry with a prayer. For some reason I find it easier to pray in writing than verbally or mentally:
And here was my prayer in today’s entry:
Thank you everyone for indulging me as I struggle to heal.
The God of the Desert is the God of the suburbs, and He hears you just as clearly here as He does there. As you suffer, you are in the palm of His hand, and He will not give you more than you can take, or more than you can use.
It is my firm understanding that you're going through these trials because you will turn them into something brilliant. I am as sure of this as I am that I love you.