Guided Journal Entry #9

Welcome back to Shrink Wrapped—the podcast where we psychoanalyze ourselves for fun, for healing, and occasionally for procrastination. Today we’re cracking open a journal prompt that screams "I want more but also have no idea what I'm doing!"

Today's prompt is:

“What is one thing I deeply desire, and what steps can I take toward achieving it?”

Oof. Big feelings. Big dreams. Slightly sweaty palms.

This isn’t your average “I want a raise” or “I want abs by next summer” kind of convo (although, valid). We’re talking that deep-in-your-gut, keep-you-up-at-night, I’ll-cry-if-I-think-about-it-too-long kind of desire. The one you low-key avoid because the idea of actually going for it is both exhilarating and mildly nauseating.

But fear not—we’re not mapping out a 10-year plan or creating a vision board made of lies. We’re just taking it one tiny, semi-doable step at a time. Because big dreams don’t need a grand entrance—they just need a little motion. Even if that motion is you journaling in sweatpants while emotionally attached to a blanket.

So grab your journal, your most unhinged aspiration, and let’s get into what you really want—and how to actually inch toward it without lighting your whole life on fire. Probably. Let's get into it.

Ok, you’ve got your journal in hand, maybe a pen that actually works (bonus points if it doesn’t leak ink all over your existential crisis), and hopefully something cozy within arm’s reach—tea, coffee, your emotional support water bottle, or that one iced beverage you keep forgetting you made. Whatever’s fueling you today, welcome. You’ve officially carved out a pocket of time just for you—not for being productive, not for fixing anything, but to actually check in.

Today’s guided prompt is simple on the surface, but like most deceptively tiny questions, it packs a punch: What is one thing I deeply desire, and what steps can I take toward achieving it?

We’re not asking, “What do I think I should want?” Not “What would make my LinkedIn profile pop?” And definitely not “What’s trendy in the self-optimization corner of the internet this week?” This is about something real. Something your nervous system perks up at, even if it also starts internally screaming, “This feels dangerous and vulnerable, let’s go watch Netflix instead.” That thing you maybe whisper to yourself when no one’s around. The desire that feels equal parts magnetic and mildly terrifying because it actually matters to you. We’re not here to map out your next five years, build a 47-step vision board, or manifest a yacht—unless that’s genuinely your vibe, in which case, carry on. This space is for peeling back one honest layer and asking: What do I actually want? And what’s one tiny move I could make to stop ghosting that part of myself? No judgment. No pressure. No need to have it all figured out. Just you, your inner compass, and a few unfiltered minutes with your own mind. Let it be messy. Let it be honest. Let it be yours.

Step 1: Clarify Your Desire

Alright, let’s start with the big question: What the hell do you actually want?

Not what your mom wants for you (sorry, Mom), not what your partner would brag about at brunch, and definitely not whatever your 2am TikTok spiral convinced you was the secret to happiness—no shade to the #vanlife folks, but let’s be honest, some of us just need reliable plumbing and mental stability.

We’re talking about your actual desire. The one that doesn’t shout, but lingers. That quiet, persistent nudge that shows up when you’re driving in silence, lying awake at night, or pretending to listen during a Zoom meeting. The one that whispers, “Hey… remember me?” and then immediately triggers your fight-or-flight response because oh god, what if I actually went for it?

Maybe it’s finally writing that book you’ve been talking about since 2017. Maybe it’s starting that weird little side hustle that makes no logical sense but lights you up like a raccoon in a dumpster full of glitter. Maybe it’s traveling—not in a curated influencer way, but just… waking up somewhere new without panic-Googling for stable Wi-Fi. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s peace. The kind of peace where you’re not constantly bracing for disappointment, chaos, or the next emotional fire drill. The version of you that’s less anxious, more grounded, and no longer operating on caffeine, autopilot, and repressed rage.

Whatever it is—own it. Name it. Say it out loud. Write it down. Bold it. Underline it. Doodle it in the margins of your journal like it’s your high school crush. Use a sparkly gel pen if that’s your brand. You don’t have to know how to get there yet. Right now, you’re just giving that desire permission to exist. To be real. To be worth exploring. To be yours.

And that? That’s the first move.

Now—why do you want this? No, really. Not the cute, surface-level reason you’d say at a networking event. We’re not here for “growth opportunities” or “diversifying your skill set.” I’m talking about the real stuff—the emotional juice behind it. The stuff that lives just beneath your carefully managed calendar and your coping-through-distraction habits. Is it about freedom? Freedom to do things your way, to make choices that aren’t filtered through obligation or fear? Is it about expression—finally letting out the parts of you that have been playing it safe, quiet, or polite for way too long? Is it about proving to yourself that you’re more than just a task-doing meat robot who wakes up, doom-scrolls, and drinks caffeine until it’s socially acceptable to stop? Why does this thing matter to you—not in a résumé bullet point kind of way, but in a “this would actually make my soul exhale” kind of way? The kind where your chest unclenches just thinking about it. The kind where you stop looking for validation because you’re actually aligned with your own damn values. That kind.

Get specific. Get weird with it. Let your “why” be bigger than your fear of sounding dramatic. Because honestly? This might be the first time in a while you’ve asked yourself what you want without censoring it. And then—let yourself feel it. Not just think about it intellectually, but actually drop into it for a second. Imagine waking up and realizing: Oh shit… I’m actually doing the thing.* You’re living the version of your life that your past self only dared to daydream about.

What would that feel like? Empowering? Peaceful? Like you’ve finally stopped holding your breath and bracing for disappointment? Would it feel grounding—like you’re standing in your own shoes for the first time and they actually fit? Whatever it is, write it all down. Capture the texture of it, the energy of it, the before-and-after of your emotional landscape. Don’t worry if it’s messy. Honest usually is. This is how we build a vision that means something—not just a Pinterest board, but an actual map back to yourself.

Step 2: Visualizing Success

Time to time-travel into your best-case scenario. No, not the version where you win the lottery, buy a llama sanctuary in the woods, and finally ghost everyone who ever sent you a “just circling back” email—though let’s be honest, that’s a valid daydream and we fully support it. But this is about your real, lived, possible future—the one where that deep desire you just wrote down? It’s not a distant fantasy. It’s your actual life.

You did the damn thing. You committed. You took the scary steps, probably had a few breakdowns along the way (because growth is spicy like that), and now? You’re in it. You’re living it.

So… what does that look like?

Maybe you’re waking up without immediately checking your phone like it’s a life support machine. Maybe mornings feel less like a fire drill and more like you actually ease into the day—coffee in hand, boundaries intact, and a nervous system that isn’t screaming into the void before breakfast. Maybe you finally have a morning routine that isn’t just chugging caffeine and trying not to cry in the shower.

Your days feel different now. Not necessarily perfect or curated, but intentional. You’re doing things that align with your values, your energy, and the version of you that doesn’t say “yes” just to be liked. Your calendar isn’t full of obligations disguised as opportunities. You’ve made space—actual space—for what matters.

Your relationships? Maybe those have shifted too. The ones that drained you have either been pruned, redefined, or put on the world’s longest pause. And the ones that remain? They’re rooted. Mutual. Safe. You no longer feel like a support group leader for people who don’t show up for you. You’re surrounded by folks who get it—and who get you.

Your work life? Maybe it finally reflects who you are instead of just what you can tolerate. Maybe you’re creating, building, resting, or simply working with more autonomy. You’re not fantasizing about faking your own death to escape a Zoom call. You’re not trapped in hustle-for-survival mode. You’re in build-your-life-on-purpose mode.

Zoom out and really feel this version of life. Feel it in your chest, in your shoulders, in the part of you that’s so used to bracing for disappointment that even imagining peace feels like a risk.

This is your invitation to dream honestly. Not perfectly. Not performatively. Just with the kind of messy, hopeful clarity that says: Yeah. This could actually be mine.

Zoom in: what are the ripple effects of this win?

You didn’t just check off a goal—you shifted something foundational. You proved to yourself that you're not just capable of dreaming, but of following through—without turning into a joyless productivity cyborg who lives off color-coded spreadsheets and guilt. You did the thing, and now there’s this deep, quiet confidence settling in. Not the fake-it-til-you-make-it kind. The real kind. The kind that lives in your bones. The kind that whispers, “We did that. We’re doing it. We can do hard things and not completely unravel.”

Maybe you're finally at peace—not because life suddenly became chill and chaos-free (lol, as if), but because you stopped abandoning yourself. You stopped shoving your needs to the bottom of the to-do list. You stopped negotiating your worth with people who never deserved a seat at the table in the first place. You started choosing you—again and again—and now, that’s just normal.

And that sense of purpose? It’s no longer some elusive “find yourself” scavenger hunt that involves burning sage and panic-reading self-help books at 2am. It’s more like: Oh hey. I know what I care about. I know what I’m building. I know why I’m here. Maybe it’s still unfolding, still imperfect—but it’s real. It’s rooted. It’s yours.

Now check in with your body. How do you feel in this version of yourself? Not how you think you should feel. Not what would look inspirational in a caption. But deep-down, gut-level you. Are you walking taller? Is your breath deeper? Do you feel a little more grounded in your skin, like you actually belong in your own life? Maybe you feel grateful. Maybe you feel soft. Maybe you feel like an absolute badass who’s finally stopped playing small just to keep things safe.

Hell, maybe you even feel a little smug—in the best way. Not arrogant, but self-assured. Like you’ve earned this. Like you’re no longer asking for permission to want what you want. Like your inner critic is still around, sure, but they’ve been demoted to unpaid intern with no decision-making power.

So go ahead. Channel that version. Embody it. Describe it like you’re narrating your own glow-up montage—slow motion, dramatic lighting, maybe a power song playing in the background. Get into the details. Because here’s the thing: if you can imagine it, you’ve already started building it. Your mind is laying the blueprint. Your words are carving the path.

You’re not just dreaming. You’re remembering what’s possible.

Step 3: Identify Obstacles and Limiting Beliefs

Okay, so you’ve got the dream. You’ve visualized the glow-up. You’ve bathed in the fantasy of the life you could have. And now it’s time to wade into the swampy part—the part where all the internal drama queens start making noise. Welcome to the mental mosh pit of “Yeah but what if I can’t?” Because apparently, the moment you admit you actually want something meaningful, your brain hits the panic button and launches a full-blown existential WWE match. Complete with folding chairs of self-doubt and dramatic entrance music by your inner critic.

Let’s start with the fears—the uninvited but always on-time guests. What pops up the moment you consider taking a real step toward what you want? Maybe it’s the classic: fear of failure. The little voice that mutters, “Why even try? It’s safer to stay where you are. At least mild disappointment is familiar.” It’s the emotional equivalent of staying in wet socks because changing them sounds like too much effort.

Or maybe it’s that old fan favorite: impostor syndrome. Tap-dancing on your last nerve like it paid rent, convincing you that you’re not enough—not smart enough, creative enough, consistent enough, attractive enough, healed enough, whatever enough. (Spoiler alert: you are. And even if you weren’t? The bar society sets for “enough” is made of bullshit and shifting goalposts anyway.)

And it’s not just the internal gremlins. Let’s talk about the external crap too—because life isn’t lived in a vacuum. What about time? Money? Energy? A support system that looks more like a group chat of emotionally unavailable raccoons than a cheer squad? Maybe you’ve got responsibilities, real-life barriers, or a nervous system that's been in survival mode for so long it side-eyes joy like it's a scam.

Here’s the thing: these fears and roadblocks aren’t proof that your desire is unrealistic—they’re proof that it matters. If it didn’t, your brain wouldn’t throw such a spectacular tantrum at the mere thought of pursuing it.

So instead of pretending the fears aren’t there or trying to bulldoze through them with toxic positivity and seven empty affirmations taped to your mirror—get curious. Name the fear. Let it speak. Then calmly inform it that it can ride in the car, but it sure as hell doesn’t get to drive.

Because yeah, the swamp is real. But so is your ability to walk through it—with muddy boots, a journal in hand, and the absolute audacity to keep going anyway.

Now let’s talk real-world stuff. Not vibes. Not manifestation mantras whispered into moonlight. I’m talking about the actual, practical things that might make this whole “chase your desire” thing feel hard. Things like time—or more specifically, the complete lack of it. Maybe your schedule is already a Jenga tower of commitments, held together by caffeine and sheer willpower. Or money—because unfortunately, even the most soul-aligned dreams sometimes need actual funding, and your bank account is currently looking at you like, “Bestie… be serious.”

And then there’s support. Or, y’know, the lack thereof. Maybe you’re surrounded by lovely humans who just don’t get it. Or worse, you’ve got a motivational circle made entirely of emotionally unavailable houseplants, a group chat that only talks about drama, or relatives who think your dream is just a quirky phase.

Write. It. All. Down. No shame. This is not about sugarcoating or pretending it’s all vision boards and “just believe in yourself!” speeches. This is about naming the landscape so you don’t get halfway into the journey and panic-quit because you forgot to pack snacks and hiking boots. Avoiding reality doesn’t make it easier. It just makes the crash louder when it inevitably shows up uninvited.

But here’s the kicker—the part the burnout gremlin doesn’t want you to realize: you can shift the story. No, you can’t snap your fingers and make time appear or conjure a fairy godmother who bankrolls your dreams. (Though if you do have one of those, please send her my way.) But you can take tiny, intentional steps that make the whole thing more doable.

Maybe it’s breaking your goal into micro-movements instead of trying to life-overhaul by next Tuesday. Maybe it’s asking for help (gasp, vulnerability again), delegating one thing, or letting someone know what you’re working toward. Maybe it’s just changing your internal monologue from “This is impossible” to “This might take a while, but I’m allowed to try.” Because spoiler alert: progress doesn’t require perfection. It doesn’t even require a solid plan. It just requires movement. Any movement.

Your obstacles aren’t signs from the universe that you should give up. They’re just detours asking for better navigation, a little creativity, or—let’s be honest—a nap and a snack before you keep going.

So go ahead. Name the fears. List the roadblocks. Air out the doubts like you’re Marie Kondo-ing your limiting beliefs. But don’t let them have the final word. You’ve got bigger things to build—and they start with not abandoning yourself at the first sign of resistance.

This is where the good stuff starts. Not in spite of the hard parts—but because you’re willing to face them and keep moving anyway.

Step 4: Breaking It Down into Actionable Steps

Alright, dreamer—time to bring that vision down from the clouds and plant it squarely in your real, messy, calendar-clogged life. Look, manifestation is cute. Mood boards? Adorable. But actual progress? She’s into to-do lists, sticky notes, and slightly panicked Google searches at 11:47pm. This is the part where your dreamy montage fantasy meets actual logistics—and yes, that can still be magical.

This step is about breaking your Big Shiny Goal™ into bite-sized, non-overwhelming, actually-doable actions. Not the kind that make you want to immediately lie down and disassociate, but the kind your nervous system can handle without throwing a full-blown tantrum. Because let’s be honest—if your brain thinks pursuing your dream means waking up at 5am, becoming a green juice person, and quitting your job on a whim, it’s going to nope out before you even sharpen your first metaphorical pencil.

So let’s scale it way down. Start by writing out three embarrassingly small steps you can take toward your desire. Like, “I might forget I even did this tomorrow” small. Think:

— Google that thing you’ve been too intimidated to research

— Text someone who might be helpful, encouraging, or at least less emotionally draining than your usual group chat

— Dust off that half-used notebook and write one single sentence about what you want

This isn’t about momentum that looks impressive. This is about micro-moves that prove to your very overwhelmed, very human self that this thing? It’s possible. And that you don’t have to overhaul your entire life overnight to get started.

Maybe one of your steps is reaching out to someone who’s doing what you want to do—even if it makes you want to throw up a little. Maybe it’s carving out 15 minutes a day that’s just for this dream—even if that means saying no to something else (or letting the dishes vibe in the sink for a hot minute). Maybe it’s picking a deadline that feels like a gentle nudge, not a threat from your inner productivity gremlin.

Whatever it is, make it real. Make it yours. And above all—make it kind. The goal here isn’t to impress anyone or earn gold stars. It’s to start. To prove to yourself, in the smallest and most sustainable ways, that the thing you want isn’t just a fantasy.

It’s a work in progress. And you, miracle of a mess that you are, are the one making it real.

Now—how do you make sure these small, doable steps don’t just become wishful thinking that future-you ghosted like a dating app match with too many red flags?

You structure them. You give those baby steps the dignity of a real plan. You treat them like sacred little calendar events, not vague ideas you might “get to later” (aka never). Set dates. Add reminders. Put it in your phone. Put it in your planner. Write it on your bathroom mirror in eyeliner if you have to. Treat it like a hot date with your potential—and yes, that includes choosing an outfit if that helps you show up with main-character energy.

And let’s be real for a second: if your executive functioning has been flirting with burnout or chaos lately (hi, welcome to the club), you’re gonna need systems. That might mean alarms, visual reminders, accountability buddies, or a planner that talks to you like a therapist crossed with a personal trainer. Use what works. Color-code it, sticker it, bribe yourself with snacks—whatever it takes to make your own brain feel like a safe place to land, not a battlefield of unfinished to-do lists.

Now let’s talk support. What tools, resources, or full-blown lifelines are going to keep you from spiraling into avoidance the second things get even slightly uncomfortable? Maybe it’s an online class to teach you the thing you’re afraid you don’t know. Maybe it’s a mentor or coach or friend who sees your magic even when you’re convinced you’re a disaster. Maybe it’s a Discord server of like-minded weirdos who are also trying to do big, scary, beautiful things. Or maybe it’s a planner so aggressive it makes you feel like it’s judging you from the corner of your desk—but in a motivating, “disappointed but supportive aunt” kind of way.

Whatever your version is—use it. Don’t white-knuckle your way through this out of pride or perfectionism. You are not weak for needing help. You are not lazy for needing structure. You are not a failure if you need a reminder twelve times before you do the thing. You are a human building something tender and important in the middle of a world that rewards burnout and punishes softness.

So build the scaffolding. Phone a friend. Make it easier to show up for your dream than it is to ghost it.

Because one small step at a time? That’s how empires are built. That’s how routines get stable. That’s how lives actually change. Messy. Gentle. Real. You’ve got this.

Step 5: Setting a Timeline

Alright, now that you’ve got your big desire named, your gremlins called out, and your action steps prepped—it’s time to put this bad boy on a timeline. Because let’s be honest: “someday” is not a strategy. “Eventually” is how things end up lost in the mental junk drawer with your abandoned hobbies, your half-finished DIY projects, and that plant you swore you’d keep alive this time.

Your brain, especially if it’s been through burnout, self-doubt, or the general whiplash of existing in the world lately, needs clarity. Not pressure, not a rigid five-year plan—but some honest, anchored structure that says: This is real. This is happening. This matters.

So let’s break it down. Start with this question: What’s one small win I want to nail in the next month?

Not your whole goal. Not the entire life overhaul. Just one thing that moves the needle from “thinking about it” to “I actually did something.” Think: sending that email. Signing up for that course. Writing the first three paragraphs. Finally starting that habit you've been flirting with for months. Or even—brace yourself—just sticking with something long enough to feel a little momentum.

This is low-stakes, high-satisfaction territory. You’re setting yourself up for a little hit of dopamine and a big reminder that you’re capable. Make it so doable, so bite-sized, that your brain doesn’t immediately throw a tantrum. You’re not aiming for Instagram-worthy transformation. You’re aiming for consistency. Follow-through. A small win that gives you proof: “Hey, I’m doing it. This is real.”

And when you check it off? Celebrate. I’m talking “cue the tiny dance party in your kitchen” kind of celebration. Give yourself credit like you just won an Olympic medal in Showing Up For Yourself. Because you did. And that matters more than most people give themselves permission to acknowledge.

This isn’t about rushing—it’s about anchoring. Your dream deserves to live somewhere more concrete than the “maybe later” pile. So let’s give it a home in your timeline, and let the magic of tiny follow-through moments start to stack.

Next up: the three-month milestone. This is where things start to get real. You’ve planted the seed—now we’re talking about that first actual sprout. What does momentum look like for you in the next three months? Not some hyper-optimized, hustle-culture version of progress, but the kind that feels sustainable. The kind that doesn’t leave you crying into a spreadsheet wondering if you’re cut out for any of this.

Maybe it’s showing up consistently, even when it’s boring or messy. Maybe it’s starting to see tangible progress—a chapter written, a habit stuck, a creative project finally not abandoned at the halfway point. Maybe it’s just the fact that you didn’t flake on yourself the second things got uncomfortable. You kept going. You chose to keep moving forward. And that alone is a radical act of self-trust in a world that teaches us to quit on ourselves before we even begin.

Three months in, the vision starts to shift from “fantasy life you journal about when you’re feeling brave” to “real life that’s unfolding, step by beautifully awkward step.” You start to realize: Holy shit, I’m actually doing it. And you didn’t need a total reinvention—you just needed to show up, even when it wasn’t glamorous.

And now—zoom out.

One year from now, what does success look like? Not what it would look like on a resume. Not what would make your parents feel less worried at holiday dinners. And definitely not what your inner overachiever—aka the burnout goblin in a power blazer—thinks is acceptable.

No. What does your version of success look like?

Maybe it’s a finished project. Maybe it’s a complete identity shift. Maybe it’s a new lifestyle rhythm where your nervous system is no longer in fight-or-flight just because it’s Tuesday. Maybe it’s peace. Spaciousness. The feeling that you finally made room in your life for the stuff that actually matters. Not because it was easy. But because it was worth choosing.

Whatever that one-year milestone looks like—name it. Write it down like it’s already happening. Feel it in your body. Own it like it’s not optional, like it’s not a “maybe,” but a calling you’ve decided to answer. And remember—timelines aren’t about pressure or performance. They’re not a race. They’re just a way to show future-you that present-you gave enough of a damn to try. That you didn’t just dream—you moved.

So go ahead. Pencil it in. Mark the dates. Make the plan a little real. Because your life doesn’t change all at once—it changes in these exact moments. The ones where you stop waiting for clarity, or confidence, or someone else’s permission.

And instead, you decide to show up—awkwardly, bravely, beautifully—for your own dream.

And there you have it.

You just peeled back the layers, stared your dreams and doubts straight in the eye, and laid the groundwork for becoming That Version™ of yourself—the one who doesn’t just daydream about change but actually moves toward it, even if the steps are wobbly and the map is half-drawn in coffee stains and chaos. The one who shows up even when it’s hard. Even when they’re scared. Even when their Google search history reads like a midlife crisis written in memes: “how to start over,” “is it too late to be a person,” “jobs for burned-out weirdos with big hearts.”

This isn’t about fixing yourself. It never was.

This is about honoring yourself. Your wants. Your fears. Your tender, chaotic, brilliant, unfinished self. Because you’re not broken. You’re becoming. You’ve got clarity now. A little roadmap. A plan with real steps and real timelines. And maybe even a new level of self-trust that says, “Yeah… I can do this.” You might not have all the answers (spoiler: no one does), but you have something better—intention. You have truth. You have the guts to look inward, get honest, and start walking toward something real. That’s powerful as hell.

So whether your pen made it through the whole journaling session or died dramatically mid-sentence (RIP), you still did the thing. You showed up. You cracked yourself open a little. That matters. Keep going—even if it’s slow, even if it’s messy, even if some days the win is just not quitting on yourself. Your desire didn’t pick you at random. It’s yours for a reason. So treat it like it matters. Because it does.

Now go hydrate. Romanticize the effort. Put your playlist on. Light the candle. Talk nice to yourself. You’re in it now.

And if no one’s told you today: this shit matters. You matter. And this?

This is just the beginning.

And that’s a wrap on today’s guided journaling episode. If you stuck with me through all the feelings, fears, and future-you fantasies—congrats, you’ve officially shown more emotional range than most of my exes.

If you loved this episode (or even just mildly tolerated it in a meaningful way), don’t forget to subscribe, rate, and review Shrink Wrapped wherever you get your podcasts. It helps more messy, magic-filled humans like you find us—and yes, I read every single review and comment like it’s a love letter from the void.

Now, if you want more journal prompts, connecting with other listeners like you- and me, your host, text transcripts of each episode, and a place to dissect each episode with other people who get it? Join us on the O’Neil Counseling app—it’s where all the good stuff lives, and spoiler: it's free and it’s cozy as hell- you can find the link in the show notes.

And don’t forget to tune in next week for our next DSM Dive, where we’re unpacking Schizophrenia—what it is, what it isn’t, and why Hollywood seriously needs to stop using it as a lazy plot twist. Until then, hydrate, rest, and keep showing up for your own damn life. You’ve got this.