mental health | Nestlie B

February 14, 2025 9 Mins Read

My Journey into Adult Coloring Books – A Surprising Challenge

Art

Lately, I’ve been completely obsessed with watching TikTok videos about adult coloring books. I’ve probably watched hundreds of them—mesmerized by the way artists effortlessly bring black-and-white pages to life with vibrant colors and stunning blends. It all looked so relaxing, like the perfect hobby to unwind after a long day. I was convinced that with the right supplies and a bit of inspiration, I’d be able to create something just as beautiful.

So, I jumped in headfirst. I purchased two Fuzzy Hygge Super Cute Coloring Books for myself and my mom, a pack of 120 Caliart alcohol markers, and some white gel and acrylic pens from Amazon. As soon as my supplies arrived, I eagerly flipped through the pages, choosing a cozy Christmas scene by the fireplace as my first project. I imagined myself sinking into a peaceful coloring session, watching the page transform beneath my markers.

But reality didn’t quite match my expectations.

Cover of the "Fuzzy Hygge Super Cute Coloring Book" featuring a cozy scene with a bunny, cat, bear, and fox relaxing by a fireplace with warm decorations and a colorful blanket. — Fuzzy Hygge Coloring Book

Expectations vs. Reality

Coloring Day 1: High Hopes

After watching countless videos of people creating beautiful works of art, I thought I was ready. I saved instructional videos on techniques like using alcohol markers, creating patterns, and adding dimension through shading and highlighting. The videos made it seem so easy, so relaxing.

I was inspired to dive in and start coloring my first picture. I knew in my heart of hearts that I could execute these techniques with ease since I’m a creative spirit. I thought that creating an artistic masterpiece on my first attempt would be a breeze. Boy was I in for a rude awakening.

First, it took my mother and I over two hours to swatch the 120 colors from my new marker set. This task was a bit tedious and time consuming to complete. However, this had to be done before we could begin coloring because the colors on the caps didn’t match how it looked on paper. Although it took a while for us to finish, I’m glad we did because it saved us time when it came to coming up with a design and choosing our colors.

After we finished swatching all the markers, I pulled the colors that I needed to use on the page. Since it was a Christmas themed page, I decided to go with red, green, white, and yellow as the main colors. For the fireplace, I chose various shades of brown and orange.

Once I was satisfied with my color choices, I began to plan how I was going to design the picture. It seemed simple enough, but it required way more thought than I bargained for. First, I had to decide where I was going to place all the yellow highlights that represented the glow from the fireplace. Next, I had to figure out how I was going to tackle the fireplace. I made sure I practiced on a sheet of scratch paper first making sure the colors coordinated well with each other. Then, I had to execute the plan on the coloring page. I started with the flame in the center like I saw in all the videos. I quickly came to the realization that my markers don’t blend like the ones in the videos because they don’t have a brush tip. I was very disappointed in the final result because it didn’t look as smooth and professional as the one in the videos.

After the flame fiasco, I was leery about continuing with the rest of the fireplace, but I started cautiously coloring the bricks in the pattern I laid out on the scratch paper. Fortunately, it worked out well. The fireplace was shaping up nicely despite the shaky start with the flame. The bricks looked really nice. They looked authentic. I was very proud of my progress so far. It gave me high hopes for the rest of the page.

Coloring Day 2: Disaster Strikes

Unfortunately, the completion of the fireplace wore me out. So, I decided to stop coloring for the day and come back to it at another time when I was fresh and full of energy. Little did I know that the next two coloring sessions would not be as fulfilling as the first.

I chose to color the wall behind the fireplace and the floors during my next coloring session. I started with the floors. I re-watched the videos I saved on coloring the hardwood floors before I began coloring them in. I slowly added the brown to the floors. Then, I meticulously started adding the lines depicting the wood grain. I was nervous the entire time, but they actually looked good once it was all said and done.

Since the floors turned out so well, I felt encouraged. I decided to do a pattern for the wall. I wanted to do something simple yet fitting for a Christmas theme. I ultimately landed on a cute Christmas tree pattern on a beige background. I practiced it on a scratch piece of paper like before and felt ready to begin.

I laid down the base coat of beige and it complimented the fireplace and floors perfectly. Then, I had a fleeting thought that maybe I should stop there, but I decided to be bold and take a chance with making a pattern. I immediately regretted attempting the pattern once it was done. The trees looked a hot mess. Apparently, I became less consistent with the size and spacing of the trees as I was drawing them freehand across the page. As a result, the page looked sloppy and busy. I was so distraught and disappointed that I had to stop coloring for the day.

Coloring Day 3: Rushing to Finish

The next day, I was determined to complete the picture. I was actually tired of looking at it and was worried I was going to mess something else up on the page. Although I had colored in quite a bit of the page, I still needed to color all of the little things like the plant, candles, tea pot, and picture frames. Self-doubt caused me to hesitate with every decision. I was so afraid of ruining the picture after the disastrous wall pattern that I barely wanted to touch the page.

After staring at the page for a mighty long time, I slowly but surely started coloring the smaller areas on the page. I was terrified that I was going to make a mistake. Fortunately, I colored all of the items well.

I finally reached the last large area on the page which were the feet and blanket. Analysis paralysis set in again. I couldn’t decide what pattern I wanted on the socks or blanket. Therefore, I visited my coloring book collection on TikTok again and watched examples of the same page repeatedly until I made a decision. I finally landed on a simple alternating green and red pattern for the blanket, three different red and green patterns for the socks, and red and green color schemes for the mugs. I finished with the entire picture before nightfall. I was unhappy with the end result, but was too tired to care. So, I closed the book for the night and decided to give it a rest.

Coloring Day 4: Mischief Managed

The next day, I opened the book and just stared at the offending patterned wall. I knew something had to be done about it immediately. I ultimately decided that I needed to cover it up. I pulled various markers from my set and started trying different colors until I found one that complimented the page and was dark enough to cover the trees. I prayed it would work. Otherwise, I was going to be upset.

Fortunately, it worked perfectly. The green covered the trees nicely. You could still see the faint shadows of the tree pattern underneath if you looked hard enough, but the overall effect was quite nice. I felt relief when I saw how well the cover-up worked. The picture looked much closer to what I originally envisioned. I could finally put my pens up and be done with that page.

Challenges and Solutions

Color Palette Selection: Keep it simple. Use inspiration from Pinterest or choose monochromatic palettes.
Overthinking Design Choices: Avoid overcomplicating designs. Sometimes, simple and neat pages are just as beautiful.
Analysis Paralysis: Limit the amount of inspiration you consume to avoid feeling overwhelmed.

Small Wins

My second attempt, a cat in bed scene, turned out better thanks to a simple color palette.
Reflecting on mistakes helped me improve.
I learned to accept mistakes as part of the process.

Uncolored page from an adult coloring book featuring a cat holding a teddy bear while resting in bed, with a teapot, cup, and window in the background. The word “Before” is written at the bottom. — Original Page Before the Color

Completed adult coloring book page featuring a cat holding a teddy bear in bed, colored in shades of purple, pink, and lavender, with a cozy room and window view in the background. — Final Page After the Color Was Added

Lessons Learned

Perfectionism: Mistakes happen, and that’s okay.
Comparison: Develop your own style instead of trying to replicate others.
Patience: Talent doesn’t equate to instant expertise. Practice is key.

Conclusion

I assumed I’d excel at adult coloring right away, but it humbled me. With time and reflection, I’ve learned to enjoy the process. Ultimately, adult coloring can be relaxing if approached with a childlike spirit. Therefore, keep it simple, and don’t overthink it.

Have you tried adult coloring books? Share your experience in the comments below!

October 17, 2022 16 Mins Read

My Emotional Support Baby Saved My Life

Lifestyle

First, let’s address one of the many elephants in the room. Despite the article’s name, I’m not fond of being around children, especially small children. When it comes to interacting with kids, my motto has always been that I prefer children walking, talking, and potty trained — usually, age three and up. I only like being around infants for short periods of time. This requirement hasn’t changed much over the years. Until recently, when I had to make an exception to the rule. It’s so funny how life always has a way of throwing you a curveball that changes your mind and heart.

Okay, so let’s take a look at another fun fact that you should know about me before we get into this heartwarming story. Plot twist! I have no children of my own by choice. Therefore, being around babies has not been my thing since my younger brother was a baby (he and I share a special bond too). Now that I have gotten this piece of critical information off my chest, let’s proceed with this touching tale. I’ll go back to the beginning to where all this started to give you a bit of perspective about my situation.

The Back Story

Back in the fall of 2017, I had a mental health crisis, which led me to take long-term leave from work for the rest of the school year (I was a teacher for 22 years. I bet you didn’t see that coming.). Anyway, when it was time for me to return to work the next school year, I wasn’t mentally ready, but my mounting bills insisted I go back to work to survive.

About a week before I was scheduled to return to work, my baby brother, Kahlil, called, making a very passionate plea for me to quit my job and move to Arizona to live with his family and focus on getting better. He feared that I would damage my progress or much worse if I went back to work before I was fully healed.

At the end of the conversation, I was touched by his offer but gracefully declined for many reasons. A week later, I was back at work struggling to maintain my sanity. Teaching will do that to the strongest amongst us. So, imagine what it was doing to a person like me who was riding the mental struggle bus.

As it turns out, my brother was right all along. (Please don’t tell him I said that. I will never hear the end of it.) Two months after our conversation, I had several meltdowns at work and home, which led to a final crippling situation one morning in the school parking lot. It was the last straw that forced me to call my mother and leave work and my entire professional life for good.

Uprooting My Life

After I had calmed down (because I was utterly hysterical and sobbing) and mustered up the nerve to pull out of my job’s parking lot, I drove to my mother’s house. She had already been on the phone with Kahlil. The two of them agreed that I needed to quit my job immediately. Unfortunately, that meant that I would have to leave my apartment and temporarily live with someone until I got better. Moving back home to my mother’s wasn’t an option because she had sold her house a month before and was heading to Arizona to live with Kahlil. Therefore, Kahlil’s offer was back on the table. I had no other choice but to move to Arizona to live with his family. (We moved six weeks later, at the beginning of December 2018.)

Before my mother and I officially moved to Arizona, my brother would jokingly say that he would buy me an emotional support pet to help with my recovery. For those of you that don’t know about this form of therapy, according to the American Kennel Club, “Emotional support animals (ESAs) refer to dogs and other pets that provide emotional support and comfort to their owners on a daily basis.” Emotional support animals do not undergo formal training, but their owners/handlers benefit from having them around. ESAs help people manage anxiety attacks or fight depression (esadoctors.com).

Of course, I didn’t find his declaration the least bit funny. Because not only did I dislike being around children, but I truly disliked animals even more (Another fun fact about me. Aren’t I just chock full of surprises today?). Sure, I can view animals at a safe distance at the zoo or pet store, but I do not want to live with one. EVER!

To my dismay, a few months after we moved in, my sister-in-law brought home a dog one day after visiting a friend in Tucson. Needless to say, they found out the hard way that I have no interest in animals, no matter how sweet and cute they may be. During the short time Luna lived in our household, she and I had very few interactions. I was relieved when they decided to return her to the original owners. (My family finally came to their senses and realized they aren’t pet people either.)

Now that I have given you some background information, back to the regularly scheduled program.

Adjusting to a New Life

Anyway, I was initially apprehensive about my brother’s offer because he had three young children ages 1–9 at the time. Being around children is a major trigger for me since I was a teacher for so long. As a matter of fact, in one of my final therapy sessions, the therapist stated that I have PTSD from my job, which was a true eureka moment for me because it was an accurate description of how I felt when I thought about work and children. So, as you can imagine, I was nervous about moving to Arizona to live in a house full of people, three of whom were kids.

Honestly, I tried to think positively about the situation initially. I actually thought I would form more of a bond with the older children, Ayla, age five, and Kage, age nine. They met my prerequisites of being potty trained, walking, and talking. Plus, I had positive interactions with them when they visited us back home in DC. Therefore, I thought hanging out with them might be fun.

The baby, Noelle, on the other hand, was another story. She definitely didn’t meet any of my requirements. She cried all of the time, had just started walking, was still in diapers, was still speaking baby babble, and had a slight mean streak (For the record, her parents say the same thing about her, so I’m allowed to say it too). She was my absolute worst nightmare when it came to being around a child for a prolonged period of time. Not to mention, my one interaction with her earlier in the year wasn’t all unicorns and rainbows. Noelle was about seven months old at the time and was a tough cookie who only wanted to deal with her parents. She cried most of the day she was with us and was visibly relieved when her parents arrived to pick her up later that day.

Boss Baby Was No Joke

Fast forward to December of 2018, Noelle is one, walking, and feistier than ever. She is absolutely not fond of having two new people in her world and wasn’t afraid to express it via the most epic temper tantrums that I have ever witnessed. Noelle absolutely hated it when her parents would place her in our care and leave the house for a few hours. She would instantly drop to the floor and roll from wall to wall to express her discontent. She appeared to be possessed. It was actually fascinating to watch. If we tried to pick her up to console her, her screams turned to blood curdling screeches. Her wails could rival a banshee.

By now, you can clearly see that she wasn’t fond of grandma and me in the beginning. It would take over six months for the two of us to build a relationship (six exceptionally long and trying months). Can you see my eyes rolling right about now?

I spent the next few months trying to adjust to my new life in Arizona and a house full of people. Noelle’s cries at night didn’t help the situation. She was literally tap dancing on my last remaining nerve, and I didn’t know if I could survive with the noise. (If I failed to mention that I’m noise sensitive at the beginning, now you know.) So, imagine how I felt being awakened by her cry at 3 am. Let me tell you; it was traumatic, to say the least. My mental health was practically hanging on by a very thin string that was getting thinner by the minute.

As time marched on, Noelle cried a little less at the sight of me, and I cringed a little less at her presence. Eventually, she would allow me to pick her up and comfort her when her parents weren’t around. If her parents were around, I was persona non grata.

We Finally Bonded

Slowly but surely, our bond started to form unbeknownst to the two of us. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when we became inseparable, but I know it was a series of events that led us down the path of becoming besties.

First, she started coming to me when she wanted to be held. I would pick her up and hold her as she would drift off to sleep. To my surprise, I found holding her very soothing. Listening to her soft breathing and feeling her heartbeat as she slept in my arms was comforting to me. These quiet moments appeared to be good for both of us.

We next bonded over cartoons and animated movies because I was the only adult in the house who could watch them indefinitely and not lose my complete mind. I found them quite soothing to my soul. Therefore, I would sit next to her on the sofa for hours and watch them repeatedly without going batty. We would sing and laugh all day as we watched the same shows over and over again. Her giggles warmed my heart.

Another bonding moment happened over our love for snacks and juice. It became our thing. She would come to me for snacks or a sip of my juice, which annoyed her health-conscious dad. He would admonish me for giving her unhealthy food. But I think that’s why God blessed people with aunts. What kind of aunt would I be if I didn’t spoil her and give her junk food from time to time? I adored how she would light up each time she saw me with a special treat. I loved seeing her smile.

FYI…I taught her how to say please that first year, which was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, she learned basic etiquette and how to be polite in making requests. On the other hand, she learned how to weaponize the word please quickly to get what she wanted. She even taught herself to tilt her head, bat her pretty eyes, and add a mischievous grin for good measure. Who could resist that? Needless to say, she would get her treat almost every time with her newfound tactics.

Joined at the Hip

By the end of our first year together, we had grown so close that I gave her the nickname of Lil Poo Poo (don’t judge my nickname game). She also started talking more and started calling me Aunie (This was her way of saying Auntie, minus the “t.” Don’t judge her. She was still learning how to talk). The sound of her calling for me was precious. She would call out for me, and I felt like I was an essential part of her life and world.

As we entered year two of our living arrangement, she and I interacted more and more. Her sister, Ayla, started bringing her to my room in the morning as her parents slept. I think this started because Ayla thought I was the only adult awake, and I was a safe person to take care of Noelle. It was quite funny because it started to feel like a daycare drop off situation. Ayla would knock on my bedroom door around 7 am, I would open the door, and she would have Noelle on her hip. Ayla would then hand Noelle to me and either go back to bed or head downstairs to watch tv. I would then take Noelle and turn on one of her favorite shows.

The entire situation was very amusing. Ayla’s small act unknowingly started a pattern that further tightened my bond with the baby. This morning ritual was the catalyst for giving me a little purpose in life. I started looking forward to waking up and hearing Ayla’s knock on my door. Eventually, Noelle was old enough to come on her own. Every morning I would try to be awake, showered, and fully dressed by the time she arrived at my door. I wanted to be ready for our day. After she knocked, we would proceed downstairs for her favorite breakfast of oatmeal. We sat in comfortable silence as we ate our breakfast and watched something on our tablets while enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning hours.

At times, I felt like Noelle and I shared a more profound connection. It was so uncanny how she knew when I was down because she seemed to knock on my door at just the right moment and say, “Aunie, downstairs.” Even though I didn’t need to be downstairs, she missed my presence, and that was all I needed to brighten my mood and day.

How Did She Become My Emotional Support Baby?

As our auntie/niece relationship started to blossom, my brother and his wife began to refer to her as my emotional support baby. My mother even said that we had imprinted on each other. At first, it was a funny running joke, but I think we all began to realize there was some truth to both statements over time. Now, we have come to embrace the term emotional support baby and feel it is a blessing.

I never considered in a million years that being around this small human being would brighten my mood and help with my major depressive disorder, but it did. Noelle has played a significant role in my recovery by just being a tiny, defenseless child learning about the world. Having her depend on me when her parents weren’t available gave me purpose and joy. Having her rely on me for her overall well being and basic needs as she developed helped me fight a little more for my recovery each day. In general, she was good for my mental health and spirit.

Experiencing Womb Fire

After this experience, I can finally understand how some people have children to fill a void. They think kids will give them unconditional love, provide them with purpose, and make them happy. As I held Noelle in my arms or interacted with her daily, I felt a sense of calm, purpose, and fun that I haven’t felt in a while.

Additionally, I can also comprehend how some people experience womb fire, which, according to Urban Dictionary, is “The reaction or feeling a woman has to an adorable baby that makes her want to have a baby. Hence, her womb is on fire.” I guess, in my middle years, I could see myself being a mother. It was a very fleeting feeling, but I felt it for a fraction of a second as I held Noelle. Then, of course, Noelle would do something gross and annoying like poop or cry, jolting me back to reality, confirming my choice not to have children.

Separation Anxiety

Two years have gone by, and unfortunately, our time together has come to an end. My brother has decided to go back to school to become a chiropractor. (Darn him for being ambitious and wanting a better life for him and his family. LOL!) His chiropractor school is in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Alas, my mother and I won’t be traveling with them. We will remain in Arizona for a while longer. As you can imagine, I’m incredibly sad, to say the least.

During the two months leading up to their departure, I spent as much time with Lil Poo Poo as I possibly could. Everyone was concerned about how either one of us would react once they moved. We had become inseparable. I think it will be harder on me than her because she is still young enough to forget about our time together, the longer we are apart. I, on the other hand, will always remember the two years we spent together.

I have to admit I shed a little tear at the thought of her leaving in private but tried to stay strong in front of the family. On her last day in Arizona, we spent the day eating her favorite things and doing her favorite activities. Later that evening, my mother and I drove Noelle and her sister back to their parents and had one final family meal together before they drove off on their next adventure the next day. I gave her one last bear hug before they drove off in their car. My heart sank a little as we pulled off in the opposite direction.

Final Thoughts

Just in case you are still wondering how Noelle saved my life after reading this story, here it is in a nutshell. She gave me purpose and hope. Spending time with her everyday required me to focus on someone other than myself. I was forced to live in the moment and not dwell on all of the sad thoughts that are constantly running in my head. Waking up and taking care of her was the kind of good therapy that money can’t buy. Not to mention, the quality time I spent with my niece is PRICELESS.

Plus, life didn’t seem as grim through her bright eyes, and that made all the difference in my life.

I’m telling this story a day after they have hit the road for Minnesota. Writing this story has helped me deal with this shift in my life. We plan to FaceTime (my least favorite thing to do) and stay in contact as much as possible. I fear she will forget me over time. I’ll just become that distant auntie she sees on holidays and other special occasions. Even if that happens, I’ll always fondly remember the two years we spent together and the happy moments we shared. I’ll watch her grow up and be proud. No matter how old she gets, she will always be my Lil Poo Poo, and I’ll always be her Aunie.

October 17, 2022 8 Mins Read

Bullet Journaling For Mental Health Was Therapy For My Soul

Crafts

I’ve never been the type of person who felt the need to chronicle my life, thoughts, or feelings in a diary or journal. I’m not compelled to verbally share my emotions; therefore, I don’t have any desire to write them down in a book for safekeeping.

As a child, I remember having a small diary around the age of ten or eleven. I don’t recall how it looked in great detail, but I recall it had the typical diary look with a tiny lock on the front, which held it together. It even came with a small key to lock it tight for safekeeping.

In my young mind, I was supposed to pour my emotions into my diary and lock it with a key so that no one would be able to read my secrets. I guess I received this idea from television, books, and magazines as a young girl and assumed that all girls enjoyed doing this activity.

Naturally, I thought that I would use my new diary in the same way. Writing my little heart out at least once a week, maybe more depending on my mood, feeling satisfied when I completed my entry. Then I would read it sometime later and relish in some fond memory or have a good laugh.

However, this was not the case for me. I had grossly underestimated how much I had no desire to write my thoughts down into this book. I found it to be useless. It felt like a chore without a reward at the end. I felt no joy or release once I completed my entries. It should be no surprise that I only made a few entries and abandoned the diary altogether.

A New Discovery

Fast forward thirty-five years, and I’m in the throes of a mental breakdown. I’m a complete mess, a bucket of water, and totally non-functional. I’m also on long-term leave from work, taking medication, and visiting a psychiatrist regularly, desperately trying to pull myself together and get my life back in order.

During an appointment with my new psychiatrist, he noticed that I wasn’t very forthcoming with information. He expressed that I needed to share more details about my emotions in order to diagnose my condition. He suggested that I jot down my thoughts, feelings, and concerns between our appointments and bring them to our next meeting. That way, it would give me a few talking points to share during our session.

Over the next month, I wrote down a few notes in my small spiral notebook at the end of each week. Needless to say, I didn’t have much to write down. My life was pretty dull. The only thing I felt was sadness, fear, and anxiety on a daily basis. My feelings didn’t change much from day-to-day. During my bi-weekly sessions with the doctor, I would share my thoughts, but they failed to shed any new light on my issues.

Pinterest to the Rescue

Then one day, as fate would have it, I was performing my daily ritual of scrolling through Pinterest, and I stumbled upon a pin entitled “Bullet Journaling for Mental Health and Self-Care.” The pin caught my eye because it referred to both mental health and journaling. But what really intrigued me was the phrase bullet journaling. It was utterly foreign to me, and I wanted to learn more. So, I clicked on the pin, which led me to a blog post about the topic.

I spent five minutes completely engrossed and enthralled by the information in the article. I learned that Ryder Carroll created the bullet journal as a means to organize your life. It was a simple system that allowed the user to manage their daily schedules, lists, and other various ideas into one notebook. However, his original idea had morphed over the years and had taken on an entirely new identity with a creative spin and could even be used to track one’s mental health.

By the end of five minutes, my mind was totally blown. The bullet journal seemed like a powerful tool to help me on my journey to mental wellness. Most importantly, it was the creative outlet that I didn’t know I needed in my life. A light bulb went off in my head. I had an energy surge that I had not felt in a long time.

As my excitement grew, I decided that I needed to learn more about bullet journaling and use it to help myself. I proceeded to go down the rabbit hole of Pinterest and was continuously razzle dazzled by the beautiful spreads people designed for mental health. The possibilities seemed to be endless. The bullet journal examples had everything I needed and more to improve my state of mind and spirit. This journal was just what the doctor ordered.

After climbing out of the Pinterest vortex, I dived right into the black hole known as YouTube, to find more bullet journaling information. I spent the better part of the day viewing video after video on bullet journal themes and set-ups. It was utterly fascinating how people took such a simple concept and turned it into so much more.

Once I had viewed every video imaginable, I was utterly convinced that using a bullet journal to track my mental health was a step in the right direction. I hadn’t been this excited about anything in a long time. For some reason, the idea of doing this journal ignited my passion for both art and organization.

My New Obsession

The very next day, I planned how I wanted to design my journal from charts to themes. I already owned a fair amount of art supplies to get me started, so my order was small and affordable. I ordered three journals from Amazon, plus a few stencils to get me started.

It took only a few days for everything to arrive. I decided to use one of the smaller journals for mental health only, and the larger one would be used to organize other aspects of my life. I immediately started to layout the designs in my mental health journal because I was eager to use it. I decided that each month would have an inspirational quote, calendar, mood tracker, habit tracker, and four pages to record my weekly thoughts. Each month would have a theme, and I would use the charts daily. Since I started in the middle of November, I didn’t need a lot of space. I used a fall theme, which was cute but predictable.

Once it was complete, I was happy with the result. I tracked my daily moods and habits each day for two weeks and wrote down my thoughts weekly. By the end of the month, I shared my journal with my doctor. He was impressed. He had never heard of bullet journaling. He was thrilled that I had found a unique way to monitor my mental health. He was so impressed that he shared it with his supervisor next door.

Photo by That’s Her Business on Unsplash

Final Thoughts

By now, you might be wondering why I feel that bullet journaling was therapy for my soul. The answer is quite simple. The bullet journaling’s creative aspect sparked a fire inside of me that had died out a few years earlier. Creating and using the bullet journal gave me a new purpose. On the practical side, it provided a way for me to track and analyze my mental health.

I used my bullet journals consistently for nine months until it was time for me to return to work. I can safely say that it was nine months well spent. Bullet journaling rekindled my passion for arts and crafts. It also gave my idle mind and hands something to do while I was home from work.

In the end, I only used my bullet journal for a short time, but it made a tremendous impact on my life. Unlike the diary I had many years ago, I periodically look back at it from time to time to admire my work and read my thoughts from that period in my life. I recommend bullet journaling for anyone who needs a way to track their habits, ideas, and feelings. Even if you create a simple journal, it’s still worth a try.

March 18, 2022 2 Mins Read

March 2022 Bullet Journal Design

Crafts

Green and botanical is the theme for this month’s March 2022 bullet journal design. Since nothing else sparked joy this month, I ran with this bullet journal idea. The result is a tranquil looking set-up that goes with the flow.

Check out my design process below in order to view the results.

The Design Process

Materials

Pencil
Colored Pencils
Fine liner pens
Crayola Markers
Gel Pen
Ruler
Erasers

Cover Pages

The cover pages were inspired by Amizaomar’s design on Instagram. For some reason, this bullet journal spread caught my eye and I decided to re-create it in my journal. It seemed simple enough. However, when I finished drawing, I wasn’t thrilled with my rendition of the original picture. Oh well. You win some and you lose some.

The Calendar Page

I decided to draw a page full of green vines and leaves for my calendar spread this month. I got the idea from Shedoodles on Instagram. I thought the black and green design would work well with my overall theme for this month.

The Mood and Habit Trackers

The pond theme for both trackers was inspired by the Art_n_Foxes example I found on Pinterest. Both pages are filled with leaves and lily pads that work perfectly with this month’s bullet journal spreads.

I’m really looking forward to filling out the mood tracker. I feel like it’s going to look lovely by the end of the month.

Monthly Thoughts Page

The last two pages of this month’s theme are the most adorable. I based these pages on all of the bamboo and panda drawings I found on Pinterest. I think these pages are the cutest of the entire set-up.

Final Thoughts

Overall, I’m happy with how this month’s bullet journal design turned out. Although I’m not thrilled with the cover pages, the rest of the theme makes up for the lackluster start to the month. I’m just happy that I was able to come up with another design in order to continue with my bullet journal journey.

What do you think of this month’s bullet journal theme? Tell me in the comments below?

February 15, 2022 3 Mins Read

February 2022 Bullet Journal Design

Crafts

Since I decided to continue with my bullet journal journey this month, I needed a really cool theme for my February 2022 bullet journal design. After spending a ridiculous amount of time trying to decide what theme to use, I finally settled on a Care Bear theme for this month and I couldn’t be happier.

Of course, I was inspired by a similar design I saw posted on Pinterest. I used that idea as a jumping off point and instantly started researching all things Care Bears. I created my Care Bear board on Pinterest and didn’t look back. Once I had several examples saved to my board, I began laying out the pages of my theme in my journal.

Check out my design process below in order to see the final product.