This app can't send anything on its own. Your entries never leave this device. So here's the next best thing: agree with your R U OK people that you'll send them a quick update every few days, and if they don't hear from you, they check in on you. Silence becomes the signal.

Move. A large 2024 review in the BMJ found walking, jogging, yoga and strength training all eased depression, and the harder the effort, the bigger the help. Australian guidelines suggest two and a half to five hours of moderate activity a week for adults. A walk around the block still counts.

Eat. Regular meals keep mood and energy steadier. Running on caffeine and skipped meals makes the brake weaker. Water first, then something with protein.

Keep the rhythm. If you live with bipolar, regular sleep, meals and movement at roughly the same times each day is one of the best-supported ways to stay steady.

With no account. Everything you write stays in this browser on this device. There is no server, no sign in, no account, nothing counting what you do. Dave cannot see it. Nobody can.

With an account. Your entries and photos are scrambled on this device before anything goes out, with a key made from your passphrase. The passphrase itself never leaves this browser, not even when you sign in: what goes to the server for that is a different scrambled version of it, which cannot be turned back into your words. So the cloud holds parcels that are gibberish to whoever runs it.

What the cloud does know. Your email address, and the times you signed in. That is enough for someone with the keys to the server to know that you have an account, but not one word of what is in your boxes.

The cost of that. There is no way to reset a forgotten passphrase, because any way of letting you back in would be a way of letting somebody else in. Write it down on paper. And keep saving a copy to your phone, which needs no passphrase at all.

What is never sent, ever. Nothing goes anywhere without an account. No analytics, no crash reports, no tracking, no ads, and nothing is sold, because there is nothing readable to sell.

Every hit that lands sets off a small stress response, whether you notice it or not. It takes an hour or more to clear. Stack a few and your body is already loaded before the next one arrives.

Stress does not slowly drain your patience. It takes the brake offline. That is why the dog barking at 6pm ends the day when the same bark at 9am did nothing.

What brings it down: naming the feeling precisely, finding where it sits in your body, breathing out longer than you breathe in, moving hard for a few minutes, and actually opening the box instead of carrying it. Sleep and routine protect all of it.

Who runs this. Box of feels is made and run by TenXed Pty Ltd (ABN 24 682 581 620), a company registered in Western Australia. Where these terms say we, that means TenXed Pty Ltd. You can reach us at david@tenxed.community.

What this is. A self-reflection tool. It helps you notice what is landing on you, name it, and decide what to do with it. You use it on your own, in your own time.

What it is not. It is not therapy, not treatment, not medical advice, not a diagnosis, and not a crisis service. Nobody reads what you write. Nobody is watching for warning signs. Nothing you type reaches a human being. The guide that says things like call-the-doctor day is arithmetic on your own entries, not a clinical opinion, and it can be wrong in both directions.

If you are in danger. Call 000. Lifeline is 13 11 14 and answers day and night. Do not wait for an app, and do not let a score in here tell you that you are fine.

Who can use it. Sixteen and over. If you are younger, please use something built for you with the right people behind it.

Your account, if you make one. Your passphrase is the key to your own entries and we cannot recover it. Lose it and the cloud copy can never be opened again, by you or by us. That is the deliberate price of nobody else being able to read it. Keep a copy on your phone as well, and write the passphrase on paper.

Your words are yours. Everything you write stays yours. We claim no ownership of it, we do not read it, and we could not read the cloud copy even if we wanted to.

Please do not. Use it to store other people’s information without their knowing, try to break into anyone else’s account, or attack the service. The app is one file, so if you want to see how it is built, save the page and open it in a text editor.

No promises about it working. It is free, and it is offered as it is. Browsers clear themselves, phones die, services go down, and code has bugs in it. Keep your own copy. We do not promise it will always be available or always be correct.

Where we stand if something goes wrong. To the extent the law allows, TenXed Pty Ltd is not liable for any loss that comes from using this app, including lost entries. Nothing here takes away rights you have under the Australian Consumer Law, which cannot be signed away and which we are not trying to sign away.

Changes. These terms can change. Meaningful changes will show up here with a new date on them.

Law. These terms are governed by the law of Western Australia.

© 2026 TenXed Pty Ltd. All rights reserved. The writing, the design and the code of Box of feels belong to TenXed Pty Ltd. What you write inside it belongs to you.

With no account, we collect nothing at all. No sign in, no server, no analytics, no tracking, no cookies for us. Your entries sit in your own browser on your own device and go nowhere. There is nothing for us to hand over, lose, or sell, because we never had it.

With an account, we hold three things. Your email address. The times you signed in. And parcels of scrambled data. That is the lot.

The parcels are unreadable to us. Your entries and photos are encrypted on your device before they leave it, using a key made from your passphrase. The passphrase never reaches us, not even when you sign in: what travels for that is a separately scrambled version of it that cannot be turned back into your words. So we can see that you have an account and when you last used it. We cannot see a single thing you wrote.

Where it sits. With Supabase, which runs the database. They hold the same unreadable parcels we do. We do not share your email or anything else with anyone else, and we never sell data.

How long we keep it. Until you delete it. Deleting your account from inside the app removes your entries, your photos and your account record from the server, straight away and for good. There is a button for it in My data.

Your rights. Under the Australian Privacy Principles you can ask what we hold about you, ask us to correct it, and ask us to delete it. For the encrypted parcels the honest answer is that we can tell you they exist and how big they are, and nothing more, because we cannot read them either. Write to david@tenxed.community and we will answer within a reasonable time.

Complaints. If we have not put something right, you can take it to the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner at oaic.gov.au.

Children. This is not built for under sixteens and we do not knowingly hold their information. If you think we have, write to us and it will be removed.

Other people in your boxes. You will end up writing about people in your life. That stays on your device or in an unreadable parcel, so there is nothing for us to do with it, but it is worth knowing that saving a copy to your phone makes a plain unlocked file with all of it in.

Written honestly rather than defensively, and not yet checked by a lawyer. If you are relying on it for something that matters, say so and we will get it looked at properly.

When something hard happens and there's no time to feel it, most of us box it up and keep going. That's often the right call in the moment. The trouble is what happens next. The boxes get stacked out of sight, and nobody is counting them.

They don't stay quiet. Over a day, stress chemistry from each one hasn't cleared before the next arrives. Over years, the ones that never get opened can fuse into something heavier and harder: resentment, bitterness, a grief you can't trace back to where it started.

Then one small thing, a dog barking, a message, a spilled drink, and everything comes up at once. It feels like it came from nowhere. It came from the stack.

This app gives you three things that were missing: a register to count boxes as they land, a wheel and body map to name what's in them, and a way to open them on purpose, one at a time, so the load comes down before it floods.

Narrative therapy starts with one idea: you are not the problem. The problem is the problem. We all live by stories about ourselves, and some of them were written by pain. Write as many as you like: the story of a hard year, of your family, of your faith, of the thing you survived, of who you’re becoming.

The Big Five is the personality model psychologists trust most. It measures five traits, each on a sliding scale. None is good or bad; each has strengths and costs. Knowing yours helps explain why some things drain you and others fill you up.