Deep breath.
Below you’ll find a transcription of a journal entry from this week. (Honestly, it just felt like the most honest way to convey what I have to say, rather than a more clinical analysis of managing persistent negative thoughts).
Sometimes, when I find myself mentally stuck, I write to myself in the second person. I find it helps to create distance from my current mental paradigm, and instead allows me to adopt the mindset I need in that moment: compassion, logic, etc.
. I also hope this entry highlights the value of what I call “assertive positivity,” without venturing into the territory of “toxic positivity.”
Enjoy seeing a little unedited slice of my brain :)
From Lea’s Journal, dated 12/4/2025, 7:35AM:
I’m supposed to write a newsletter for tomorrow.
Walking to the coffee shop today, I was thinking I’d write about stress responses…about seeing how my responses to stressors have changed over the years. But it’s cold outside, and the morning sun is low, and my back hurts; and right now, a writeup about emotion regulation and self-awareness feels performative and icky.
It’s funny, you know: my life is as wonderful as ever, filled with love and friendship and creativity. And yet, for the past few days (weeks?), it feel like my default is anhedonia. Joy comes much less naturally, less frequently than usual.
…did I say “funny?” I meant really fucking frustrating.
Part of me wants to drive to the beach, stand in the tides, and scream about all the wonderful and beautiful things in my life. Will I be reminded then, of the million reasons I have to be happy? Will I feel it then?
Another part of me wants to stand in those same tides and scream my grievances to the horizon.
My back hurts!
I miss my old job!
I could really use a hug right now!
I know this feeling is temporary. I’ve danced this dance a thousand times. My emotions are valid. So why does this feeling ring like a betrayal of myself? Why is it so fucking uncomfortable?
Deep breath.
Our lives are a collection of both our experiences and our responses to those experiences. You’re in pain, your neurochemistry is shifted, and it feels more difficult to focus on the positive experiences in your life. More importantly, it feels more difficult to generate and engage with new positive experiences.
Didn’t you feel better after giving your friend a hug yesterday?
Didn’t you feel better after calling your brother?
It was temporary, sure. But that was a 5 seconds, 30 minutes, where you filled your day with joy. And yesterday was better as a result of those choices.
Funny, then, that you barely spoke to your friend at the coffee shop this morning. Why? Because you were in pain? Doesn’t that seem a bit counterproductive?
I say this with all the love in my heart: do better. Choose differently. Stop ruminating about your rumination, and think instead about the way the sun feels on your face. It feels good, doesn’t it?
You just smiled at that girl admiring herself in the mirror. She smiled back. That felt good, didn’t it? And the muscles of your cheeks still tingle with the gesture.
Maybe that won’t work tomorrow. Maybe I’ll be tired, or my back will hurt too much, or I genuinely won’t be able to think of a single reason to smile.
But let that be tomorrow’s problem. Today, the sun feels warm on my face, and that girl feels beautiful in her brown leather jacket. (There aren’t enough girls in the world courageous enough to be witnessed feeling beautiful. Good on her.)
Deep breath.
Go to work. Take an ibuprofen. And when you find yourself feeling those pointless (valid! but pointless) feelings of dismay again, do this: stand up, take a breath, and write down the first thing to make you smile.
And if nothing does? Go create one.
***
From Lea’s Journal, dated 12/4/2025, 8:15PM:
I did, and today was better for it :)
