When my head is too full, the thoughts go round and round because they have nowhere to land. Writing them down gives them somewhere to go. You do not have to write well, or in sentences, or anything you would show anyone. Scribbles count. Lists count. One word counts.
Does it actually help? In one study, adults with anxiety who wrote for around fifteen minutes three days a week reported less anxiety after a month (Smyth and colleagues, 2018). The prompts are there so you never have to face the blank page to get those fifteen minutes. If you want the longer version of how and why, it is in journaling for anxiety.
These are thirty prompts I keep coming back to, sorted by the moment you are in rather than by theme, because on a hard day you do not want to hunt through a list. Find the heading that matches right now, pick one prompt, and write for as long as it takes to feel a little lighter. That might be a line. That might be three pages.
A note before you start: none of these need finishing. If a prompt does not fit, skip it. If one opens something you would rather not touch tonight, close the book and do something soothing instead. The five senses are a good place to go.
What do I write when the spiral starts?
That moment when one worry turns into ten and your chest starts to tighten. The aim here is to slow the thoughts down enough to see them one at a time.
- What is the one thought going round the fastest right now? Write it in full, even if it sounds silly on paper.
- What is my body doing at this moment? Shoulders, jaw, hands, breath.
- What am I afraid will happen? And then, what would I do if it did?
- Is this something I can do anything about today? If yes, what is the smallest first move. If no, what would help me put it down for now.
- What would I say to a friend who came to me with this exact worry?
- What is one thing that is fine, right now, in this room?
Prompt 4 is the whole of the Worry Tree in one question, and it is free on your phone if you want it walked through step by step.
What do I write in the middle of the night?
Three in the morning has its own kind of thinking. Everything looks bigger and there is nobody awake to check it against. Keep the light low and the writing short. You are trying to empty your head enough to sleep, not to solve anything.
- What is keeping me awake, in one sentence? Write it, then draw a line under it.
- What can wait until morning? List it, so your brain can stop holding it.
- What did I actually manage today, however small?
- Where do I feel the most tension in my body right now? Can I let that one place soften a little?
- What is one comforting thing I can see, hear or feel from where I am lying?
- If tomorrow goes gently, what would that look like?
Then close the journal. The list will still be there when it is light.
What do I write after a hard conversation?
Someone said something, or you said something, and now you are replaying it on a loop. Writing it out lets you look at what happened instead of feeling it over and over.
- What was actually said? Write the words as best I remember them, not the tone I gave them afterwards.
- What did I feel in the moment, and what am I feeling now? They may be different.
- What did I need from that conversation that I did not get?
- What part of this is mine to sort out, and what part belongs to the other person?
- Is there anything I want to say that I have not said yet? I do not have to send it.
- What would help me feel steadier in the next hour?
What do I write when I cannot start anything?
The day is sitting on you, the list is long, and even picking up the pen feels like a lot. These prompts are deliberately tiny. The point is to make the first mark on the page, and the rest tends to follow.
- One word for how I feel right now.
- One word for how I would like to feel by tonight.
- What is the smallest possible thing I could do next? Smaller than that. Smaller again.
- What is getting in the way? Tired, scared, unsure where to begin, something else.
- Who or what usually helps when I am stuck like this?
- If I did nothing else today but one kind thing for myself, what would it be?
If words will not come at all, colour instead. Scribble. Draw the feeling. The blank page does not mind.
What do I write to close the day?
A few lines before bed, to set the day down rather than carry it into tomorrow. On the nights this is the only writing I do, it is enough.
- What went better than I expected today?
- What did I worry about that did not happen?
- What did I do today that I would like to thank myself for?
- What is still on my mind that I can hand over to tomorrow-me?
- Who was kind to me today, even in a small way?
- What is one soothing thing I can do in the next ten minutes before sleep?
How do I use these prompts?
Keep it easy. One prompt, a few minutes, no pressure to finish. Some people write the date and a prompt number at the top so they can look back and see how the same worry looked on a different day. Some people tear the page out and bin it, which is also allowed. Writing works because the thought leaves your head and lands somewhere; what happens to the paper afterwards is up to you.
If you find yourself reaching for the same heading again and again, that tells you something useful about when you need the most care.
A journal with the prompts built in
For years I made my own journals by hand to get through my own anxiety and low days. The Self-Soothing Journal is that journal, printed properly: the calming skills up front (5-4-3-2-1 grounding, mindful breathing, the emotions wheel, the Worry Tree), then 100-odd pages of space to pour everything out, with gentle prompts for when you do not know where to start and colouring pages for when words will not come.
It is A5 and Wire-O bound so it lies flat and stays open where you left it, 140 thick pages, printed in the UK. £18.99, printed for you when you order.
If you would rather start on your phone, the Worry Tree is free, private, and works offline. It asks the one question that sits underneath most of the prompts above: can I do anything about this?
It is educational self-help, not therapy or medical advice. If today feels heavier than a few lines of writing can hold, please talk to someone. The helplines at the bottom of this page are there for exactly that.