I think by the time I had decided to destroy them, I had a dozen or so. There was a huge release of pain & angst when the first one was gone. So much so that I tore into the rest with a vengence. It was incredibly freeing to recycle, shred, and burn all that poison. Almost like alchemy — it turned into something healing.

Thank you so much for your support. I’m happy to know I’m not the only one who has this particular practice with my journals. ❤