Many people are drawn to the idea of writing about difficult experiences long before they feel ready to actually do it. They sense, often correctly, that there is something in the writing that might help. That putting words to something painful could shift it, even slightly. That the act of finding language for what has felt unspeakable might make it more possible to live with.
The hesitation is equally real. Difficult experiences carry difficult feelings, and the fear of opening something up without knowing how to close it again is legitimate. This is not squeamishness. It is a reasonable response to the knowledge that some things, once named, cannot be unnamed.
, with care, with intention, and without pushing yourself into territory that is not yet safe to enter alone.
Writing is not the same as reliving
The first and most important thing to understand is that writing about a difficult experience does not require you to immerse yourself in it. The goal is not to recreate the feeling in its full intensity on the page. That is not therapeutic. For many people it is actively harmful, particularly where trauma is involved.
What writing can do, done carefully, is create a small amount of distance from an experience, enough to begin to look at it rather than simply be inside it. The page becomes a space between you and the material, somewhere to place things rather than carry them. That distance is not avoidance. It is what makes engagement possible.
If you find that writing pulls you directly into overwhelming feeling, that is important information. It is a signal to slow down, to write less rather than more, to approach from further away, or even to consider doing this work with a therapist or writing for wellbeing practitioner alongside you rather than alone.
What is Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes?
Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes, or CWTP, is a term that describes a broad and intentional approach to writing that draws on the resources of creative language in the service of psychological understanding and wellbeing. It encompasses an unusually wide range of forms: a single word, a list, a poem, a letter never intended to be sent, a fragment of memory, a short piece of fiction, a journal entry, a dialogue between two parts of yourself. The form matters far less than what the writing makes available to you.
What unites these different approaches is intention. CWTP is writing used with awareness, writing that is oriented towards something, whether that is understanding a feeling, approaching a memory, giving voice to something that has not yet found language, or simply slowing down enough to notice what is actually present. It does not require literary skill, grammatical precision, or any sense of producing something finished or shareable. The writing is entirely for you. This is not about writing a publishable text but about connecting to parts of yourself.
How to begin without being overwhelmed
Starting at the edge rather than the centre is the most important principle in CWTP. Difficult experiences have a core, and they also have a periphery. The periphery is safer territory, a detail, an image, a sensory memory, something small and specific rather than something vast and formless.
You might begin by writing about the room rather than the event. The colour of the wallpaper, the sound from outside, what you were wearing. Specific, concrete, peripheral details do two things: they anchor the writing in something manageable, and they often, gently and indirectly, begin to open the door to what surrounds them.
Writing in the third person is another approach worth trying. Instead of writing “I felt”, writing “she felt” or “he felt” creates a small but significant psychological distance that many people find makes difficult material more approachable. It is not dishonest. It is a technique that writers have used for centuries precisely because it creates room to see something more clearly.
Unsent letters carry particular value. Writing to someone, including someone who has hurt you, someone who has died, or a younger version of yourself, allows feelings to be expressed without the social and relational consequences of actually sending them. The letter is yours. It does not have to be fair, or kind, or finished. It simply has to be honest.
Time limits also help. Setting a timer for ten or fifteen minutes and stopping when it goes off, regardless of where you are in the writing, removes the anxiety of not knowing when it will end. You remain in control of the container, which matters enormously when the material feels large.
When writing works best alongside therapy
CWTP is not therapy, even though it is therapeutic, and it is important to be clear about that distinction. It can be a powerful complement to therapeutic work, a way of extending conversations that happen in the therapy room, of processing between sessions, of finding language for things that are not yet ready to be spoken aloud. Many people find that what they discover in their writing becomes some of the most valuable material they bring to therapy.
For people working with trauma, dissociation, or complex family histories, the question of whether to write alone or with support is worth taking seriously. Writing can surface things that are better not encountered entirely alone. If you find that what you write leaves you feeling destabilised or flooded, that is not a failure of the writing. It is a signal that the material needs a relational context, a therapist who can help you process what has emerged rather than leaving you to manage it alone.
The most useful writing is often not the most intense writing. A short piece that opens a small window is more valuable than a long piece that overwhelms you. The goal is curiosity, not confrontation.
If you are curious about using writing as part of your therapeutic journey and would like to explore what that might look like, you are welcome to get in touch.
About the author
Samantha Merry is a BACP Senior Accredited Psychotherapist and Clinical Supervisor based in Bromley, South East London. She specialises in trauma, dissociation and complex family dynamics, working with adults in longer-term psychodynamic therapy. She has specialist training in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes and an active research interest in therapeutic writing and dissociation, currently explored through her Professional Doctorate in Psychotherapy and Psychological Trauma at the University of Chester.
Further reading and listening
Books
- Opening Up by Writing It Down by James Pennebaker and Joshua Smyth. Looks at expressive writing and its measurable effects on psychological and physical health, written accessibly for a general reader.
- The Therapeutic Potential of Creative Writing by Gillie Bolton. Explores how creative and reflective writing can support psychological understanding, written for both practitioners and general readers with an interest in the practice.
- Expressive Writing: Words that Heal by James Pennebaker and John Evans. A practical companion to Pennebaker’s research, offering a structured approach to expressive writing for people who want to try it themselves.
- Writing for Resilience: Finding the Courage to Bounce Back by Charmaine Pollard. A practical and accessible guide to using writing as a tool for building resilience, written for a general reader with no prior writing experience.
Podcast
- Speaking of Psychology, specifically the episode “Expressive writing can help your mental health” with James Pennebaker, produced by the American Psychological Association. https://www.apa.org/news/podcasts/speaking-of-psychology/expressive-writing
Workshops and Events
- City Lit, London. City Lit offers a wide range of writing workshops, from single sessions to longer courses, covering therapeutic writing, reflective writing, creative writing for wellbeing, and more. Workshops are professionally facilitated, affordable, and genuinely accessible to anyone regardless of writing experience. A good starting point if you want to try writing in a supported group setting without any long-term commitment. Though based in London some courses are offered online. citylit.ac.uk
- Lapidus International. Lapidus is the UK organisation for literary arts and wellbeing, connecting practitioners, researchers, and anyone with an interest in writing as a tool for personal development and health. Membership (paid) is open to all and gives access to events, workshops, and a network of people working at the intersection of writing and wellbeing. lapidus.org.uk
- The Arvon Foundation. Arvon runs residential creative writing retreats at centres across the UK, some of which have a reflective or therapeutic focus. Retreats typically run over five days and offer sustained time away from ordinary life to write in a supported, unhurried environment. arvon.org
- Metanoia Institute. Metanoia occasionally offers public-facing taster events and short courses in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes alongside their postgraduate programmes. Worth checking their events calendar if you want an introduction to CWTP in a structured, clinically informed setting. metanoia.ac.uk