STORY BY

Drs. Blair & Rita Justice

Can you keep a secret?
The question itself is an implied promise, exacted in a whisper, and creates a special kind of bond—and tension. Knowing something that you cannot tell is a responsibility, an act of trust, a hiding of a shameful act, an altruistic gesture of protection. Whether you enter into the covenant of secrecy willingly or under duress, the body responds to the psyche’s withholding.

In the book and film, The Prince of Tides, author Pat Conroy tells of an entire family held hostage by a host of macabre secrets. Yet, the sum of all the heinous acts perpetrated upon this family—child rape, abuse and murder—could not begin to equal the damage done by having kept any one of these acts a buried secret.

We all carry secrets—those told to us and those we have lived. We pay a price for the not telling, sometimes a huge one. Yet there is a way to “tell” and still be protected. Dr. James W. Pennebaker, a professor of social psychology at The University of Texas at Austin, has been investigating the healing power of expressive writing for over 25 years. Worldwide, there are now over 200 studies on the biological, physiological and behavioral changes that come from writing about trauma or the deeply upsetting experiences that we have kept to ourselves.

One of the major findings of the research is that people who have had trauma and have kept that experience secret were at much higher risk for illness. Writing about those painful or traumatic experiences has impressive benefits. People in experimental groups who wrote about their painful experiences made 43 percent fewer doctor visits for illness than the control group who wrote only about superficial topics.

Studies on journaling or narrative writing have found that emotional writing is associated with general enhancement in immune function (depending on a person's stress level), better lung function among asthma patients, reduced pain and disease severity among arthritis sufferers, higher white blood cell counts among AIDS patients, and less sleep disruption among patients with metastatic cancers. Other studies show reduction in resting blood pressure levels, heart rate, and lower liver enzyme levels often associated with excessive drinking.

How to keep and release a secret

This is the basic instruction for expressive/emotional writing that Dr. Pennebaker gave in his studies and gives in his book, Writing to Heal: A Guided Journal for Recovering from Trauma and Emotional Upheaval (New Harbinger, 2004).

For 20 minutes, on four consecutive days, write about your deepest thoughts and feelings about the trauma or emotional upheaval that has been influencing your life the most. In your writing, truly and fully let go and explore the event and how it has affected you. Examine your deepest emotions and thoughts surrounding this upheaval in your life. Remember to write continuously the entire 20 minutes. And never forget that this writing is for you and you alone.

Writing this way isn’t that simple. People hold back, even if they are assured no one will see what they write. They need reassurance that the purpose is to be completely honest and open with themselves. When people verbally describe the details of a trauma to someone they don't know or trust, they often hold back. In writing, there is a freedom in knowing there will be no other witnesses to this story but the writer, and therefore, no censorship.

Undertaking a writing exercise can be scary. We fear losing control. We fear that the mere pen stroke that brings form or “voice” to our guilt or shame could cause us to relive a pain or breach a trust. The avoidance of this pain is often the reason there is a secret in the first place. Spilling it on to a page that no one else will see frees us from its bondage.

Letting go

Though not a panacea for all wounds, emotional writing can target certain physical or psychological ills that have oozed unhealed over the years. And, sometimes, the secrets revealed are not secrets, but rather, artificial, confining and outdated protective layers. Pennebaker recalls a young patient whose husband had died suddenly a year earlier. Through her coworkers he learned that she was perceived by all to be happy, courageous, even inspirational in her optimism in the wake of her loss.  She did several emotional writing sessions and by the end, was transformed. She reported lower blood pressure, deep happiness and appreciation for the writing experience.

Two months later, Pennebaker reports, they met to discuss her life and the writing intervention. In the interim, she had quit her job, dropped her work friends, and had moved back to her hometown. She credited these changes to the writing sessions. She realized she was on a life path she no longer wanted and had been putting up a false front for her friends all along. She discovered that the only people with whom she truly could be herself were her childhood friends. Was her writing experience good for her? Pennebaker says, "Some would say that it undermined her career, her financial future, and her entire social network. She maintained it was a lifesaver."

This path to healing is available to anyone in arm’s length of pad and paper. There’s no fee or appointment necessary.  All we need is the courage to tell “the secret” to ourselves with unflinching honesty. Doing so can uncage our authenticity and give us the permission to live fully, unfettered by the trappings of our own pasts or someone else's.

UPDATED: 5-18-2006

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