I have taken some time off blogging to focus on my self-care. It’s exam fortnight where I work in Canterbury, I am also still in the middle of a research internship process, a new course application, writing my personal development plan for my PGCert hand-in, dealing with pain/anxiety and just trying to clear my head after the most chaotic month I can remember in recent history.

I am very excited about the upcoming changes/challenges in my professional life. So excited, in fact, that I threw myself into them without much thought for anything else. Whenever I have bursts of positivity and productivity in my life I embrace them. I have also been spending time with my family and friends.

I stumbled upon the Folkestone Wellbeing Centre last weekend. It has only been open for a month. At the time there was a journalling workshop happening in there and it was pretty exciting to see people using journals for wellbeing. It is definitely a place I would like to return to and possibly get more involved in at some point. While I was there I saw a handful of copies of the Radical Self-Love for sale. I got the book for my Mum and my BFF a few years ago. It feels weird that I saw the book again because lately I have been thinking about Gala Darling‘s sacred mornings. Mornings are something I struggle with and, as I try to live my life more mindfully, they are a constant reminder of how far I have got to go.

A lot of my reflections over the past year have been around the idea of belonging and home. The morning is the time when the sense of displacement hits me. Morning is the time when I feel the need to put on a brave face or a happy face or whatever is expected of me. I’m tired of it.

In my previous seminar I spoke briefly about my artwork. I was not expecting to, but an hour before I had a chat with my tutor and as most of my class were talking about their work and inspiration, I thought I would too. I had it all planned in my head, but when I looked at the pictures they triggered memories and I kinda just spoke about that. I noticed I use negative words and phrases frequently, I don’t feel particularly negative most of the time. But I feel the need to challenge the hiding of negative feelings. Which is where I guess my artwork started. I self-censored for so long that my anger seems offensive to me, and I feel like it’s uncomfortable for others too. Saying I’m angry is hard.

I wondered if I am more upset that my feelings take up space or that I take up space in the world. I feel like an inconvenience.