As a content creator, I often write short stories and compose personal letters. It also works as therapeutic writing, helping me to organize thoughts.

While AI text generators call the shots in academia and other content creation niches, I think it’s time to pay more attention to the therapeutic effect of the traditional writing process.

It’s something AI can’t replicate or replace, especially in times of war, uncertainty, fear, and self-doubts we, humans, experience more often than not today. Writing practices like freewriting, pen poetry, and composing letters help us observe thoughts and feelings, control emotions, heal our inner selves, and see how our mental condition goes.

That’s what my Ukrainian friend revealed to me.

I never thought of writing as a therapy. It’s my job, after all. I’ve been crafting blog posts, reviews, academic articles, and other non-fiction content for years. Pouring emotions on paper seemed impossible:

I couldn’t imagine how I would write a letter to my cat, ex-boyfriend, or passed-away grandma. More than that, how could it help me feel better?

But then, I read her letter, “Forgive me, Ukraine.” It’s full of reflections on why there is no more place for tolerance towards Russians, why it was a mistake for Ukrainians to continue relations with those people after 2014, when the war actually began, and why it’s not Putin’s but the whole Russia’s war we observe now.

It hit me when I got the idea:

This letter is an attempt to deal with a sense of guilt. The same technique works with shame, sorrow, anger, disgust, happiness, joy, and other feelings. It’s an instrument to help us observe our thoughts and come to know who we really are.

After telling your worries, vulnerabilities, and thoughts to paper, we feel better. It’s like a psychotherapy session where a notebook becomes your “listener.” While most people don’t think in sentences but in images or self-interrupted, impressionistic phrases, writing appears helpful to track feelings and get insights.

When writing letters, we speak to our alter consciousness. Usually holding our worries, memories, and fears in our bodies, we finally get a way to release them: By writing or typing something directly from the brain, we create a mind-body connection between our inner experience and the outer world.

What to write?

Here go several topic ideas for your therapeutic letters, depending on the feeling you want to work through.

Guilt:

• “I never thought I would feel guilty for such a tiny thing.”
• “I don’t even remember how long this sense of guilt lives in me.”
• A letter to someone you feel guilty about
• “Please forgive me being such an a**hole back then.”

Shame:

• “The first time I felt this shame was…”
• “Who are you to judge me?!” A letter to your inner critic

Anger:

• A letter to someone to whom you have anger or resentment but cannot express it in person
• “F**k off!” A letter to someone who drives you crazy
• “I’m going to your funeral.” A letter to someone who offended you

Sorrow/sadness:

• A letter to your pain to systemize it somehow
• A letter to your close person who passed away

Fear:

• “John was afraid of snakes.” Write an essay about a person who has your fear. How did they get it?
• Choose a movie or book character and describe how they overcome your fear. (What would Darth Vader do if he was afraid of spiders, for example?)
• “And then it hit me!” (Where did your fear come from?)

Joy:

• “No one sees how I…” (Describe your guilty pleasure)
• Make a list of tiny things that make you happy. Choose one and describe why it’s so valuable to you.
• “The last time I was truly happy…”

And sometimes, the day comes when you feel desperate and helpless. The world looks hypocritical, and you don’t see any way out. You look for support, but everyone seems to ignore you or laugh at your face. All human values appear artificial, looking good and promising when on paper or politicians’ lips but impotent when the time comes to act.

When such a day came for Ukrainians, my friend shared the draft of her new therapeutic letter. A letter of despair. Originally in Ukrainian, written in July 2022, it’s here in English (the translation is by the author) to show the power of writing and its effect on our inner state.

“Dear Satan,”

“Thank you! In the 21st century, when people get used (again!) to the fact you’re “in details,” you’ve decided to remind them who is the boss here. Thanks. Now I’m sure of your existence.

This time, you’ve chosen the biggest country to be your homeland. You’ve raised and placed your best mentee to rule there, blinded their eyes and souls — and sent this wild horde to render your judgment. You might have decided humans have forgotten you, inventing tolerance, human rights, technology, space, and all that bulls**t. Yeah, you reminded them of yourself constantly. You acted by the hands of greedy-for-money individuals and structures; you seduced, misled, and sent viruses… But no one cared, and it pissed you off.

Well, fine.

We know you’re immortal. This helplessness in front of you, pure evil, doesn’t frighten but often discourages. Sure, a “drop in the ocean” can’t stop missiles flying at homes. It can’t convince “deeply concerned” hypocritical politicians ready to make a deal with you. And it can’t open the eyes of other countries’ people worrying about nothing but the fact their coffee’s price is now a $1-2 higher.

You have seduced millions and made billions indifferent. We are screaming, but our voices are drowning in your laughter. You are enjoying yourself, drinking in your power: Finally, people will see that their word, pain, and needs don’t matter to anyone, whether it’s the 16th, 21st, or any other century outside.

But dear Satan, you know what? Go to hell! 

And take your devil with you! 

The devil you taught and made believe his imperial power. Tell him that he has failed in your task! Take all your moths and cockroaches under your wing, send them down to hell, and punish them as your worthless servants. They’ve lost this battle for you.

We are wounded but undefeated, and we continue on our way. And you have eternity to raise a new pathetic creature for yourself, which will come back in a hundred years to remind people again who you are and who we are in this world.

We can do nothing with that. Although we win battles, you always win the war. Human memory is too short.”

Such letters won’t change the world or stop wars at once. But they can help us understand ourselves better. They teach us to deal with emotions or steer destructive feelings in the right direction, turning them into our fuel to fight, create, and help others.