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How A Lame Journal Saved My Day
When I first heard about gratitude journals, I was newly eighteen and homeless.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been homeless, but the experience can put a damper on the whole “let’s talk about what we’re all thankful for” thing. It didn’t help that I’d first heard about it in the context of a neighbor’s very overwhelming church, which had recommended each member of their congregation keep a journal where they thanked God for various things everyday. I was not interested in thanking God for anything, let alone designating one of my beloved, unused journals to the process. I could list all the things I was ungrateful for. I could fill up a journal in one day with that.
I wasn’t grateful that my mom had disowned me and kicked me out two months after my high school graduation. I wasn’t grateful that my dad and my sister were on two different continents at the time, so it was just me against my legal guardian in a foreign country. I wasn’t grateful that my best friend moved out of said country later that same week. I wasn’t grateful that most of my other friends had already left for college, something which clearly wasn’t going to happen for me.
I wasn’t grateful that I had to rely on high school acquaintances letting me sleep on their couches, staying with someone new every other night so I wasn’t too much of a burden on any one person. I wasn’t…