*CATCHING UP – this is written as if it is week 16: 22nd – 30th April.*
[Hi, I’m Joshua Judson. I’m writing 1000 Poems this year. To find out how and why, click HERE.]
Poems written this week: 40
Poems written so far this month: 195
Poems written so far this year: 495
Self love is a weird thing. Self love, to me, sounds very intense. I made a facebook status a while ago, sort of flippantly saying that, and that I was ‘gonna go for self like first’.
A lot of life things have been pointing towards an urgent need for me to improve my self esteem. It took me a long time to realise that it was very, very low. The counselling I’m getting at my uni has helped to show me that was the case. So for the past few weeks and months, I’ve been thinking about self love and self care.
Consensus seems to be that self care is a tricky to define, very personal thing, so I’ve been trying to figure out what that looks like for me.
During the Easter break, I had a day where I was both giving a workshop to the Bilborough Poetry Collective group I run in Nottingham, AND attending the final Barbican Young Poets session of the year in London, with a very rushed train journey in between the two.
The workshop went brilliantly, the train journey was quick and the BYP session flew by and all of a sudden I found myself in the pub in Farringdon with some other Barbican Young Poets. I was sat there, looking a bit dazed when someone asked me how I was doing. I then went into a bit of a tirade, describing my day and how I felt like my feet hadn’t touched the ground yet. We then proceeded to talk about self care, and I had the realisation that one of the things that is self care to me is giving myself time to process things.
I tend to process very slowly. I don’t know if it’s part of my dyslexia or what, but it’s just always been the case that big things take a long time to sink in for me. I tend to just take the fact that something hasn’t sunk in to mean that I am fine, and just pile up a to do list. I think moving forward I need to give myself that processing time. And if that means setting aside one of my off days from uni to purposely do nothing, then so be it. No matter how the workaholic in my brain protests.
This week, I moved back to London properly. As I sit in my room in South East London, I feel good, but I know that I haven’t registered the change of environment yet.
Calm down Josh. Give it time.