Dylan Bickers

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This Journal Will Fix Me*

I am no stranger to the need for getting my shit together. Actively living with Major Depressive Disorder has made that a lot harder for the past several years, but that’s a story for another time. I am also not estranged from falling into the trap that is, “If I just buy this one thing, it’ll fix me.” If I get just the right pen, application, or some other totem that eventually turns into untouched kipple on any available flat surface. The Cortex Theme System Journal used to be one of those things for me, until I finally figured out how to make it work for me.

I’ve been attempting some lifestyle changes. One of them includes taking a break from consuming alcohol. Now that I’m on the cusp of my 30th birthday I’ve been noticing the diminishing returns I get from the experience. I’d cut down my intake quite a bit since the peak I and many others experienced during the Pandemic. However, until I decided to take an extended tolerance break I hadn’t realized how much even a moderate amount of alcohol was affecting so much about my physiology.

A few days into my break I noticed some marked improvements. The faintest crumb of motivation to do literally anything started tumbling around in my head. This, for someone who is working to manage their depression is something I wanted to grip firmly with both hands lest it evanesce somewhere under my bedsheets, never to be seen again. To this end I decided to start small. I wanted to take a walk in the morning.

One 30 minute morning walk turned into two, then turned into a week. I wanted a way to track this behavior and snowball that crumb of motivation into something consistent. That’s when I decided to revisit the Theme System journal.

I’d previously had an active subscription through the good folks over at Cotton Bureau. I’d get a new journal shipped direct every six months. At one point I had a stack of about 12 unopened white bubble-packed journals. It was untenable. It was annoying. It was kipple. I gave most of them away to friends, but kept two in reserve. (Three if you count one of my previously aborted attempts that became a flat surface to hold beverages and “I Voted” stickers while I was sitting on the edge of my bed dicking around on my PlayStation.)

The most democratic journal-turned-coaster I own

I started by identifying some things that I wanted to do more consistently. Some of these will sound completely normal to a neurotypical person. “I want to exercise a bit more, let me add Morning Walk to my daily tracking.” Some will sound more familiar to people who struggle with mental illness that will seem to be no-brainers to normies, “Shower,” “Brush your teeth 2x/day.”

For both of those groups I have to tell you for different reasons, it worked. I would start my day with a walk. I get home. I’m kinda sweaty so I want to take a shower. I get the shower turned on and while I’m waiting for the water to get to the right temperature? Perfect time to brush my teeth while I wait. Once that’s squared away I have three things I get to log as squared away in my journal, and I can keep going from there. It’s Newton’s First Law of Motion, but it still feels a little bit like magic.

I could do this with literally any journal, and so can you. However, it’s nice to have dedicated little boxes and circles ready made for me so I don’t have to make them myself.

Full circle for full credit, half circle for partial credit. It’s good to give yourself leeway because none of us can be perfect

This journal didn’t fix me, despite the title. I know that this mental illness is something I will have to continue to manage for the rest of my life. However, the journal did give me an excuse to direct that glimmer of energy I felt at the beginning of my alcohol tolerance break. No product, regardless of how well it’s designed, will fix me or anyone else. Sometimes, however, they can help give us a focal point for those moments of motivation that can feel all-too-rare.