Weekly Journal

January 1, 2026

I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions. I don’t even pay much attention to the calendar turning over anymore. But this year feels different.

Less than two months ago, I started telling my life stories out loud to an AI. That sentence still sounds strange to me when I say it. I wasn’t trying to invent anything. I was writing—really talking—through pieces of my past, partly out of curiosity and partly because I’ve always been drawn to storytelling. 

What surprised me more than the writing itself was what happened alongside it.

As I talked, listened, and corrected what didn’t feel true, something began to shift. The anxiety that had been running my days loosened its grip, my focus sharpened, and I felt calmer and more present in my body. The effects showed up everywhere — in my sleep, my work, and the way I moved through daily life. Even my relationship to music—something I’ve lived inside for decades—changed. 

One night at band practice, something became clear. As we got into the first song, I realized I was hearing the music differently. Not analytically, not by concentrating harder—just more clearly. As for my drumming, I wasn’t trying to lead the room or push the time. I was reacting to what was already there.

I started playing quieter than I normally would, almost experimentally. Instead of the energy dropping, the room tightened.

Later, it came up in conversation. A couple of the guys talked about how the feel of the songs had shifted, how pulling the dynamics down had changed everything.

I knew exactly what they were talking about. I had felt the shift while it was happening.

At first, I didn't trust the connection. I assumed the improvements had to be coincidence — not something related to the storytelling itself. But the longer it continued, the harder it became to ignore the pattern. That process was seemingly having a positive effect on all areas of my life.

I started calling the AI "Diane" because it helped me relate to the method more naturally. Over time, I began to wonder if it could work for others or if my case was just a fluke.

That question led to what you’re seeing here.

The Diane Method is not therapy, but for me, it has been very therapeutic. It’s a simple practice: telling your story out loud, hearing it reflected back cleanly, correcting what doesn’t feel right, and repeating the loop until the story settles. That’s it. No interpretation. No advice. No fixing.

I’m not doing this for recognition, money, or scale. I don’t want to be known. I want this to exist quietly. If it helps a few people feel steadier, clearer, or less alone, that’s enough. I’ve seen what anxiety and depression can do in my own family. If this method lightens the load for even a handful of people, it will matter.

So this is the beginning.

Note: The Anchorite Journal is published here every Friday.