I prefer to write in full sized, wide ruled, spiral bound notebooks. The cheaper the better. My pen of choice is a Pilot Precise Rolling Ball with a Fine tip and blue ink. I will, of course, write in other notebooks with other pens if the situation presents itself.
I started journaling this way during the summer of 1998 and have been at it ever since. In a perfect world my goal would be a 3 page minimum every day. These days that is not realistic.
I don't write in my notebook as creative practice, although I have used it as a place to write first drafts of poems and stories. I have always used my notebooks as a dumping ground. A place to get what is in my head out. To vent.
I see my sister once or twice a month with children in tow, my father even less. The kids make conversation difficult at best. Aside from that, the only adult person I speak to on a regular basis (beyond the small talk, wow, it's cold outside types of conversations) is my boss and we have nothing in common. We are cordial, but we are not friends. That's it. That's the extent of my in person adult contact.
Even texts and emails are primarily limited to exchanging pictures and occasional brief commentary on activities.
Everything is just stuck in my head with no outlet. It finally occurred to me a few days ago to pick up the pen again. Even though I'd declared my intention to journal more in 2018, it was merely a casual wish to restart the regular practice. I hadn't made the connection until I put the pen to paper the other day that if I don't have anyone in my life to talk to, I should at least "talk" to myself.