With a new bullet journal notebook, a day fits neatly between straight lines guided by a ruler and dot grid. It has form. Order.
It doesn’t make the day itself conform to this shape, but the map is realistic enough to represent the country.
Each event logged takes up no more space than it’s allowed. The moment transfers to the page without the emotion.
This is what I planned and this is what I did. No judgement. No regrets.
When it feels like all I can control is my reaction to events, putting a name to every reaction and giving it a place to live outside myself helps me find balance.
I can’t just doomscroll. I have to pause and write down that I’m doomscrolling.
If I’m going to have any chance at getting back to navigating my own path, I need to find my bearings first.