Could a Stress Journal be the stress reliever Black people need?
Moderating worries may be helpful to Black people diagnosed with hypertension
When I saw the Google calendar alert for a “Stress Journal Check-In,” I wasn’t sure how to feel. It had been six months, and I couldn’t remember what my six worries were. I flipped to a blank journal page, wrote “Yes, No and Not Sure,” then flipped through my journal to the page markers where my “worries” were. I’d apparently been going through it (figuratively, not physically) six months ago because I wrote down nine worries instead of my usual six. Slowly, I read through each one, adding a check mark next to the row where each “worry” result made sense.
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By the time I was done, a smile crossed my face. I’d marked seven check marks in the “No” column and two in the “Not Sure” columns. To my delight, everything that was a big deal to me six months ago had either been forgotten, never happened or was brushed aside to the point I no longer cared.
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I was so relieved by the results that I checked my blood pressure twice, and I noticed it had gone down. In 2024, African-American adults were 26% more likely to have diagnosed hypertension than U.S. adults overall, and (as of four years ago and a contentious lawsuit) I fall into the high blood pressure category too.
I protested this diagnosis the entire first year, reevaluated my entire vegetarian menu, did way more Pilates and weight lifting, walked my dog (and other dogs) two times as much, continued my morning meditation routine, and found new choreography to dance around to. A year later, I was able to slash the prescription’s milligrams in half. As much as I wanted to hear that I didn’t have to take high blood pressure medication at all, the lowest dosage was the next best thing.
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In addition to all that, the Stress Journal had a permanent effect on giving me a self-check. While it is extremely rare for me to be nervous or sad about pretty much anything (minus funerals and the first drop in amusement park rides), I can easily grow frustrated, drained or angry over a conversation gone wrong.
I’d rather take a right hook to the jaw than for someone to say or do something that affects me mentally — and for the long run. Whoever said “words don’t hurt” lied. And very few people in my social circle can dissect conversations quite like me. While it comes in handy for journalism and editing, it’s an energy drain for everyday life. This is exactly why the Stress Journal basically slaps me upside the head and proves, “Girl, it’s not that deep!”