Writing Through the Hard Times with Adrianna Nine
I’m not a huge fan of journaling prompts. To me, they often feel forced, shallow, or just not quite right for my situation. I prefer writing stream-of-conscious. This approach helps me notice the questions (or prompts) that are already floating around my mind and explore them right there on the page.
Still, I recognize that many people do benefit from journaling prompts. And I believe in the power of a well-timed question. So when I saw Adrianna’s post titled “Six journal prompts to try when life totally sucks,” I felt a mix of intrigue and skepticism. Could these prompts really be that different from others I’d tried?
The answer: Yes.
Adrianna’s prompts weren’t prompts so much as six new tools I could add to my journaling toolbox. They’re practical questions to turn to when life gets hard for greater self-compassion, deeper understanding, and—as Adrianna explains in her post—an easier (if not easy) go of things. I immediately saved them and messaged her about a collab. I wanted to learn more about her experience, and I wanted to share her insights with you, too.
In this Q&A, Adrianna shares more about her journaling practice plus practical advice and other prompts you can use to write through the hard times with less self-criticism and more care. If you’re navigating one of life’s more stressful seasons, her words might be the encouragement you need to find solace on the page.
To kick us off, can you just say a little more about your approach?
My mom introduced me to journaling when I was little. It was an alternative to talking things through: I was super self-conscious back then, and she gave me a diary in which I could scribble questions or concerns that I was too embarrassed to express out loud. It was a sweetly clandestine form of communication; I’d put the journal under her pillow for her to read, and she would respond on the page, placing it under my pillow when it was ready for me.
I didn’t really journal in the traditional sense until I was a young adult, though. At my first major office job out of college, I’d often arrive for my 6 AM shifts ten to fifteen minutes early, and I’d burn that time by talking to myself by way of a journal. I was going through a nasty breakup, and I needed somewhere to put the thoughts that I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with others. I found that this allowed me to approach my workday with a clearer head, so I kept doing it.
Since then, I’ve discovered that the goal with journaling isn’t just to write something down and then leave. It’s to help transform the way I think about and handle things so that I’m more attuned to my needs or goals going forward.
What’s something you think about or handle differently now than you did before you started journaling?
I think I journal primarily to put my thoughts somewhere. Though I’m an open book for those who ask, I’m a relatively private (and still somewhat self-conscious) person in that I often prefer to work things out internally, if I can. Some thought processes, though—from figuring out how I want to prioritize my savings goals for the next few months to determining how to approach a conflict with someone else—are just too clunky to sort in my head, so I put them down on paper. I feel lighter, then, and I often find that through these written “conversations” with myself (sometimes this is figurative, but other times I’ll literally write down questions like “What am I afraid of right now?” and then respond) I reach a conclusion more smoothly than if I’d kept it all in my mind.
It can be hard to take care of ourselves when we’re having a difficult time. How do you get yourself to show up and write in your journal when life gets hard?
I’m extremely grateful to have a lot of social support. Still, I don’t always want to share every little emotional struggle with those around me, lest I become a negative presence or sound like a broken record. (It can also be exhausting to explain the nuances of how you’re feeling when you’re already exasperated with life!) My journal essentially serves as a halfway point between keeping things inside and sharing them with someone: I still get to release the emotional pressure valve a bit, but I’m not requiring someone else’s time or labor, and I get to keep things private until I’m more prepared to bring them to others.
Something that really stood out to me about your six prompts is how they’re structured to help you acknowledge both the feeling and the reality of an unpleasant situation. Where’d you learn how to do that?
I have been to a lot of therapy, and my answer to this is very much therapy-related, so buckle up!
Many conventional therapists default to the cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) approach, which focuses primarily on how you feel—and this is where my biased view of CBT comes in—therapists, don’t look!—versus how you “should” feel based on a list of common cognitive distortions, like catastrophizing, polarized thinking, overgeneralizing, and so on.
While I’m sure identifying these distortions can be helpful for some people, I noticed over time that this approach led me to distrust my own thoughts, which is infamously destructive for people with OCD, myself included. My counselors started incorporating another framework called acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT), which is just what it sounds like: you acknowledge the reality of your situation and lean on your core values to guide your response. This dovetails nicely with my overarching belief regarding mental health, which is that many of the experiences we call depression and anxiety are fairly understandable responses to an inequitable and often unstable world.
In the end, who am I to deny that someone’s reality totally sucks, including my own?
How do you manage writing about the hard feelings in your journal without spiraling out into rumination? And/or how do you hold yourself accountable (a necessary part of transformation!) without falling into shame, blame, and self-criticism?
When I notice myself writing the same type of thing over and over, I’ll realize that I’m feeding a fed horse, so to speak. I’ll be like, Girl, we get it, and feel a bit exhausted and step away. Last year, I was at a job I hated, and who knows how many pages of that journal are filled with rants and self-pity. (I’m afraid to look.) I think this was eye-opening even at the time, though: it forced me to realize that things weren’t changing, and that if I wanted to be a happier person, I needed to get the hell out of that job.
I’m pretty hard on myself, though. Sometimes I like that about me, because it’s how I get shit done; other times, I wish I could be a bit softer. That particular balance is a work in progress!
One of your prompts is “How might my past self be proud of my current self, and how can I continue to do right by them in the future?” I really loved this use of different selves as a way to shift the perspective and give more credit (and power) to your current self. What’s another reframe you use to empower your current self?
Oh my gosh—I’m in love with the nebulous concept of past, current, and future selves, and I think about it a lot! So, at the risk of sounding a bit crazy, I’ll extend on that here.
There’s my past self from when I was, say, 10 years old, but the version of me that I am right now will also be a past self someday. While “How might my past self be proud of my current self, and how can I continue to do right by them in the future?” focuses on honoring a version of myself that is already in the past, I often remind myself that eventually I’ll look back on my current self, the one who is 30 years old and sitting on her mustard-yellow couch with her cats. How can I do her a favor?
Recently, this has taken the form of cutting ties with a hurtful parent, taking the first shaky step toward a long-held dream, and investing in my physical fitness—things that are not always fun in the moment, but will hopefully save my future self from a whole lot of grief.
What other ways do you use journaling to better understand your needs and back yourself?
You asked how I manage to turn to my journal when life gets hard, but honestly, I’m more likely to journal when I’m having a rough time than when I’m having a decent one. But I think it’s important to jot down the good things—it helps me commit them to memory and celebrate them in a small way.
Even when it feels a little mundane or silly, I try to record the things that have made me feel loved, excited, or proud. Taking just a few lines to note that I achieved a goal or had a fun time with a friend helps me remember that not every day sucks.
You recently launched Postcard Prompts—congrats! What do you want people to know about this exciting new project?
Thank you so much! I launched Postcard Prompts for two reasons: to help people get the most out of their journaling sessions regardless of their experience, and to deliver a bit of analog joy via snail mail. Email newsletters are fun, but it’s undeniably lovely to feel cardstock and the edges of a postal stamp and know that someone thought of you when they made something tangible.
Anyone interested can sign up for Postcard Prompts here!
Is there anything else you want people to know about you, your journaling practice, or journaling more generally?
Stop trying to make your journal pretty! I get it—you buy a gorgeous journal that you’re stoked about, and then your excitement turns into dread at the thought of “tainting” it with your poor penmanship, crappy doodles, coffee splatters, whatever. But this book of blank pages is for you to work things out on, not for a museum or (despite what the rise in “junk journaling” posts would suggest) the internet. It’ll be no use to you if you don’t write in it with reckless abandon. Kill the curator in your head! Take your favorite gel pen to that thing!
About Adrianna
Adrianna Nine is the author of the audio novella Those Lights at Night and the Substack newsletter Creativity Under Capitalism, which explores the intersection of art and work. In 2026, she launched Postcard Prompts, monthly journaling prompts delivered via snail mail. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her partner and two beloved cats.
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