These are journal prompts for the days when everything feels like too much and you cannot tell what, exactly, is too much. They sort the pile instead of adding to it. Twenty-four questions in four groups, one sentence each. Pick one. Five minutes is enough, and you do not have to finish the list.
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Overwhelm is rarely one big thing. It is usually forty small things with no edges, all of them sounding equally urgent at 11 p.m. A notebook cannot make the forty things go away. What it can do is give each one an edge, so you can see which ones are yours, which ones are due, and which ones are already done. That is the whole job of these prompts. They do not ask how you feel about the pile. They ask what is in it.
How to use these questions
One at a time. Read the four group headings, pick the group that matches today, then pick one question from it. Not the page. One.
Write one sentence, not a paragraph. If a second sentence wants to come, let it. A third is optional. A fourth is probably a way of not doing the thing.
No scoring. Nothing here gets a number, a color, or a checkmark. You are sorting, not grading.
It is fine to skip. If a question lands wrong today, cross it out and take the next one. The list is not in charge of you.
What is actually on the list
When you feel overwhelmed, the list in your head is longer than the list on paper, and vaguer. "Sort out the insurance thing" is not a task. It is a cloud. These six questions get the cloud onto a page where it has edges.
What did you tell yourself you "have to do" today before you had even gotten out of bed?
Which task on today's list is the one you keep rereading without starting?
What is in your head right now that is not written anywhere, not on a list, not in a calendar?
Which two items on your list are the same job wearing different names?
Which item on your list is not a task at all, but a worry dressed up as one?
What is still on the list but is actually finished, and why have you not crossed it off?
What to notice: how many of the items are things to do, and how many are feelings about things to do. They belong on different pages.
What is not yours
A surprising amount of the weight is borrowed. Someone else's deadline. Someone else's mood. A job you picked up in March because it was easier than explaining why not. These questions do not ask you to drop any of it. They only ask you to read the label.
Which worry on your list belongs to another person (your partner, your boss, your mother) and simply moved into your head?
Whose reaction are you managing when you check that message for the third time?
What are you doing this week that no one asked you to do, and that no one would notice if it stopped?
Which chore did you pick up "temporarily" months ago and never put down?
What are you fixing in advance so that someone else never has to feel inconvenienced?
Who would actually be fine if you did a smaller version of what you are planning to do for them?
In the groups I facilitate, question 9 is the one that gets the longest silence. Most people can name something within a minute. Most people did not know it was there until they were asked.
What can wait
Overwhelm flattens time. Everything feels due now, including things that are due in three weeks and things that were never due at all. These questions put the dates back.
Which deadline on your list did you set yourself, and when did you set it?
What would actually happen on Thursday if the thing you are rushing tonight got done on Friday instead?
Which email could sit unanswered until tomorrow without anyone being hurt?
What are you doing "while you're at it" that is quietly doubling the size of the job?
Which project is waiting for your perfect version when a plain version would do?
Of everything due this week, what is the one thing that truly cannot move?
A note on question 18. The honest answer is usually one or two things. If your answer is "all of it," write the list again, slower, and ask the question of each item on its own. Something will move.
What is holding
On a bad day, attention goes to what is broken, and the floor you are standing on disappears from view. These are not gratitude prompts, and you do not have to feel anything about the answers. They are a plain count of what is working, so the picture is complete.
What got done today that you have already stopped counting?
Who sent you a message this week that made things a little lighter, even for a minute?
Which part of your day went as planned, without you having to fight for it?
What is one thing in your home that is working fine right now (the kettle, the dog, the window that opens)?
When was the last time today you sat down, and what were you looking at?
What is one sentence you could say to yourself tonight that is true and not a pep talk?
If this group is the hardest to answer, that is worth knowing too. It usually means the week has been loud for a while, and the quiet parts have stopped registering. Start with question 22. It is the easiest, and it is still true.
If you only have five minutes
Take these three, in this order, one sentence each.
What is in your head right now that is not written anywhere? (question 3)
Which deadline on your list did you set yourself? (question 13)
What got done today that you have already stopped counting? (question 19)
Then close the notebook. That is the whole check-in. You are allowed to feel exactly as overwhelmed afterward as before. The difference is that three things are now on paper instead of in you.
A small practice to go with them
The two-column page. Five minutes, a pen, one sheet of paper. It is a sorting practice, not a planning one. Nothing gets scheduled.
Minute 1. Draw a line down the middle of the page. Write "Mine, today" at the top of the left column and "Not mine, or not today" at the top of the right.
Minutes 2 and 3. Empty your head onto the page. Every item, any order, no neat handwriting. Put each one in a column the first time you think of it. Do not deliberate. A wrong column costs nothing.
Minute 4. Read the left column only. Circle one item you could do in the next hour. Not the most important one. The most doable one.
Minute 5. Read the right column once, slowly, and close the notebook. You do not have to do anything with that column. It is written down now, which means your head does not have to hold it tonight.
What to notice: which column is longer, and whether anything landed on the left that belonged on the right. Most people find the right column is longer than they expected, and that the left column, on its own, looks like a day they could actually have.
Here is a composite example, drawn from many conversations and changed enough that it is no one in particular. A woman in her forties, two kids, a job with a lot of email, did the two-column page on a Tuesday night. The left column had eleven items. The right column had nineteen, including her brother's move, a school fundraiser she had agreed to "look into," and a dentist appointment that was not hers. She did not cancel anything. She circled "call the pharmacy" in the left column, did it the next morning, and said the main thing was that she slept.
You can stop here. No new goal, no purchase, no sharing required.
When this is not enough
Overwhelm that comes with a bad week and leaves with it is one thing. Overwhelm that has become the weather, week after week, with no clear list behind it, is another. If this sounds more like anxiety to you than a long month, that is worth a conversation with a professional.
This is a reflection practice, not medical care or therapy. If things have been heavy for weeks, please talk with a doctor or a licensed therapist. In the US, you can call 988 or text 988 at any time.
Questions people ask
What should I write in my journal when I feel overwhelmed?
Write the list, not your feelings about the list. Start with what is actually in your head: every task, worry, and half-promise, one per line, in any order. Then sort it once, into what is yours and what is not, and into what is due and what can wait. One sentence per item is plenty. The point is to get it out of your head and onto something that holds still.
Can journaling help when you feel overwhelmed?
It can help with one specific thing: the difference between holding forty items in your head and seeing them on a page. That difference is real for most people, and it is the only thing these prompts promise. Journaling does not shorten the list. It does not fix the job, the house, or the family. If what you need is fewer things, writing is the first step of sorting, not a substitute for it.
How do I journal when I am too overwhelmed to even start?
Make it smaller than feels reasonable. One question, one sentence, on whatever is nearest: the back of an envelope, a note on your phone, the margin of the grocery list. Skip the notebook, the date, and the full sentence if you need to. "Insurance thing. Not due. Not mine." counts. If even that is too much tonight, the list will be there tomorrow, and so will these questions.
When you feel overwhelmed, the most useful thing to write is not how you feel but what is actually there. Twenty-four questions, four groups: what is on the list, what is not yours, what can wait, what is holding. One question, one sentence, five minutes. The pile does not shrink. It gets edges, and edges are enough to start.
Take these with you
Use “Print or save as PDF” above to keep these questions. No email is required.
Start with what is on your mind. The Energy Map asks five short questions and gives you a personal reflection and one small practice. Free, no email, no account. Try the Energy Map. This month's theme: Energy: Make Room for What Matters.
Anna Smirnova is the author and facilitator of YOUR YEAR at Wonder Bend: twelve monthly themes, written reflections, small practices, and group reflection sessions. About Anna. Published . Updated .
