Journaling Without the Spiral: A Healing Approach for High-Performing Leaders
- Published:
- Updated: June 20, 2025
You’ve bought the guided journals.
You’ve followed the prompts.
You’ve tried “just get it all out.”
But somewhere between page 3 and page 30… you stopped.
Not because you didn’t want to heal—
But because you were reliving, not releasing.
This is what nobody tells high-functioning leaders:
Journaling isn’t always therapeutic.
Sometimes, it becomes a well-documented trauma spiral.
You leave the page more overwhelmed than when you started.
No clearer. No calmer. Just… raw.
If you’ve ever thought:
“I’m doing the work—but I still feel like a mess,”
You’re not broken.
You just haven’t been taught how to journal in a way that supports your nervous system— not just your thoughts.
This post is your guide.
No gimmicks. No toxic positivity.
Just a trauma-informed path to writing through the mess without drowning in it.
Your Trauma Informed Journaling Guide
✍️ Why Journaling Feels Like the Right Thing (But Sometimes Makes It Worse)
You’ve heard it all before.
“Journaling is good for your mental health.”
“Just write it out.”
“You need to process those feelings somehow.”
And you don’t disagree.
In fact, your therapist probably recommended it.
You’ve read the studies. Denise even said it.
You know this isn’t fluff.
But here’s the problem:
Every time you try, something inside you tightens.
You open the page—and instead of relief, you feel dread.
The pen starts moving—but you’re not healing, you’re unraveling.
So you close the notebook, turn on Netflix, pour a drink, or scroll.
And that moment of “maybe this’ll help” dissolves again.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not avoiding growth.
You’re not “too emotional” or “not doing the work right.”
You’re just doing it without containment.
Because what nobody told you is this:
Writing can be therapeutic—only when the nervous system feels safe.
Without that? You’re not journaling. You’re emotionally freefalling onto paper.
And for a high-functioning leader—someone used to solutions, order, and forward motion—that freefall feels like failure.
Not because you don’t care.
But because you can’t lead yourself through something that offers no structure back.
So you ask:
“Why can I lead meetings, manage crises, build strategies—but journaling makes me feel like a child again?”
The answer isn’t that you’re broken.
It’s that you’ve outgrown venting—but haven’t yet been taught what comes next.
That’s what we’re building in the next section.
🧠 What’s Actually Happening—Why You Spiral Instead of Settle
Let’s get real:
When journaling leaves you feeling worse, it’s not just “in your head.”
It’s in your nervous system.
Here’s what’s happening behind the scenes:
🧠 1. Journaling activates the emotional brain—fast.
Your limbic system (the emotional part of your brain) doesn’t wait for logic.
When you start writing raw, unfiltered emotions—especially about trauma—you’re reactivating old emotional memorybefore your prefrontal cortex (decision-making brain) can catch up.
This is called “amygdala hijack”—when emotions override logic and you lose your grounding.
📚 Source – Daniel Goleman on Emotional Hijacking from his book, “Emotional Intelligence”
You may be writing, but you’re not regulating.
🔁 2. Repetition ≠ relief.
High performers often fall into cognitive loops on paper:
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“I’m tired of feeling this way”
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“Why do I still care?”
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“Nothing is changing.”
This isn’t healing—it’s rehearsing the pain.
In trauma psychology, this is known as rumination, and it can increase depressive and anxious symptoms when left unstructured.
📚 Source – Nolen-Hoeksema, 2000, Yale University Study
So when you write the same wound 15 different ways…
It doesn’t mean you’re deep.
It might mean you’re stuck.
🌀 3. “Venting” without containment becomes emotional reactivation.
Venting can feel cathartic—until it becomes flooding.
Your body doesn’t know the difference between real-time danger and relived pain.
So when you write about a painful moment without grounding tools, your body responds as if it’s happening again.
This is called “implicit memory reactivation”—you’re not remembering; you’re reliving.
📚 Source – Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score
Bottom line:
Journaling that isn’t grounded doesn’t discharge the emotion.
It amplifies it.
And for a high-performing leader—someone used to mastering chaos—that can feel not just painful, but disorienting.
But here’s the good news:
You can still journal.
You just need a new frame.
Let’s build that next.
✍️ What to Do Instead—Grounded Practices That Help You Write Without Collapsing
This isn’t about becoming a better writer.
It’s about becoming a safer place for your own truth.
Here’s how you do that without turning your journal into a pressure cooker—or a puddle.
🪟 The 3-Part Window
This is a simple daily structure that holds emotional charge without letting it run the show.
1. State:
Start with your body.
“Right now, I feel ____ in my chest / stomach / jaw.”
No stories. Just somatic truth.
2. Story:
Name the situation without explanation or justification.
“This morning I heard back from that client and felt ignored.”
“I watched a show and it reminded me of my dad.”
3. Signal:
What is this moment inviting you to notice, ask, or tend to?
“Maybe I’m not angry. Maybe I’m grieving being unseen.”
“I think I miss being supported—and I haven’t said that out loud.”
You’re not fixing it.
You’re just tracking the emotional signal instead of spiraling in the noise.
🗣️ Truth Phrasing vs. Trauma Venting
Most leaders don’t need more “Let it all out” advice.
They need a way to speak clearly without self-gaslighting or emotional dumping.
Try this format:
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Instead of: “Why does this always happen to me?”
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Write: “The part of me that still doesn’t feel safe assumes this will keep happening.”
It externalizes the fear without becoming the fear.
You’re telling the truth.
But you’re also protecting your nervous system in the process.
✍️ Naming Without Narrating
You don’t need a plot twist.
You don’t need to tie it up in a bow.
Sometimes all you need to write is:
“I feel small and afraid, and I hate that I still do.”
That’s enough.
That’s the difference between processing and performing on the page.
This isn’t about getting it perfect.
It’s about staying connected while staying grounded.
And some days, the most honest thing you can write is:
“I’m here. I’m trying. I’m not giving up.”
That’s the seed of healing.
And tomorrow, you water it again.
🚨 When It’s Okay to Stop Writing (And What to Do Instead)
Let’s get something clear:
Stopping isn’t failure.
Sometimes, it’s the most emotionally intelligent move you can make.
If journaling feels like you’re:
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Dredging up pain you can’t soothe,
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Performing a routine that now feels hollow,
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Or spiraling into thoughts you can’t regulate…
That’s not discipline.
That’s emotional self-abandonment.
Here’s the truth:
Journaling is a tool, not a commandment.
And just because it helped once doesn’t mean it serves every day.
So what can you do instead?
🗣️ Voice Notes (to your future self)
Hit record. Speak softly.
You’re not documenting—you’re witnessing yourself in real time.
“I don’t have answers, but I know I need rest today.
Future me—I hope you remember that’s allowed.”
👣 Silent Walks With One Line of Truth
No podcast. No music. Just movement.
Afterward, jot one sentence in your Notes app. Not a story. A truth.
“I feel angry that I’m still afraid to slow down.”
“I miss being held—but I don’t want to ask for it.”
That’s journaling, too.
🪞 Mirror Prompts
Stand in front of a mirror. Ask:
“What am I afraid to admit to myself today?”
You don’t need to answer out loud.
But your body will know.
🧾 Index Card Check-Ins
One per day. No pressure. Just a date and a theme.
Over time, you’ll see patterns—without needing paragraphs.
6/20 – Restless but grounded.
6/21 – Guilt about canceling. Still glad I did.
6/22 – No energy to reflect. Just breathing.
This is emotional sobriety.
Not pushing through—just staying present.
You’re not skipping the work.
You’re learning how to stop turning healing into punishment.
❓FAQ: I Still Feel Messy—Does That Mean It’s Not Working?
Q: I journaled the “right way” and still felt heavy. Did I mess it up?
A: No. Healing isn’t a productivity metric. Feeling anything—even discomfort—is a sign you touched something real. Stay with it gently.
Q: Should I stop journaling if it triggers me too much?
A: Not necessarily—but you do need a break if you’re leaving the page more agitated than grounded. Swap in a mirror prompt or a single-line reflection instead.
Q: Isn’t journaling just navel-gazing? What’s the point?
A: Not if you’re doing it to return to yourself—not to perform. This isn’t about self-fixation. It’s about self-honesty.
Q: I feel embarrassed by what I’ve written. Is that normal?
A: Absolutely. You’re breaking patterns of emotional masking. Honesty—especially with yourself—can feel raw. That’s not shame. That’s exposure. And that’s where healing begins.
✨ Journaling Doesn’t Have to Be Perfect – Just Honest.
You don’t need to be poetic to be honest.
You don’t need to be consistent to be committed.
You just need to keep showing up—without trying to win at healing.
If journaling has felt like a war zone, not a refuge—
you’re not alone.
And you’re not doing it wrong.
You’re just finally ready to lead yourself differently.
And if you want support with that?
💛 Work with me, Denise G. Lee – Together, we’ll untangle the deeper patterns behind your silence, your spirals, and your self-leadership fatigue.
👉 Explore coaching
🎙️ More grounded insights?
Listen to the podcast. No gimmicks. Just real talk about healing, leadership, and emotional truth.
👉 The Introverted Entrepreneur Podcast
💌 Got questions or want to share what came up while reading this?
👉 Write me a note
Journaling isn’t the point.
Self-reconnection is.
And every time you try again—you’re rebuilding that trust.
Word by word.
