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Emilee

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My front facing camera broke on my phone, making my already limited picture taking even MORE limited. Have a throw back from last spring. I have a blog post in the works. Life has been kinda nutty, my laptop *also* bit the dirt, and things have been kind of overwhelming. Y’all are always on my mind, though! You’ll be hearing from me soon. 💕
Classes yesterday brought to you in part by @leakycon (I don’t usually dress up for costume week, but i do try and incorporate Harry Potter to some degree 🤷🏼‍♀️)
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My friend Bailey and her company @companythreesixty made this and I have no more words to add. It’s perfect. #Repost @catchingbreaths with @get_repost ・・・ Why didn’t I report? I didn’t report because I thought that if I’m in a relationship with someone, it meant it was equally my fault. I thought the years of unhealthy feelings towards myself which ensued, were still invalid since it could have been worse. I thought I shouldn’t tell my Momma until a couple of years later on a beautiful mountain walk together, and even then, I softened the story from shame for how I’d appear to the person I love the most. I didn’t report because we live in a world where men use sentences like “it can always be worse” as psychological shrapnel. A world that tells us we should have done more to stop it. A world that, even when I remember the attempts to push away as clearly as consciousness cinema, I was scared to push too hard because I didn’t want to make someone mad. A world that makes me worry at sharing, because I have young students and ‘should be a role-model’: with a role model being pure, respectable, elite, undamaged. Now, a mother, wife, champion, boss... I still worry to report as innocuously as through a #WhyIDidntReport hashtag, lest I somehow appear less for having shared. But as someone who’s survived a darkness far worse than that described, and Shawshanked her way to a life of light- save for second glances over shoulders- I can say that the hardest person to report to is actually... yourself. It’s the you that you had once hoped to be. The you that you’ll never be again. The you that you wish you could go back and protect. The you you wish you had been (louder, less in shock, less weak). The you that once was but was taken. To all the Yous you once were reading this (and the You in me who still feels cemented by shame)... this should never have happened. It doesn’t matter how loud, quiet, forceful... how well you knew them.... You didn’t deserve to lose You because your body wasn’t left as yours. None of us do. None of us ever will. There is no good way to end this bit of writing, because the truth is: it hasn’t ended. A perfect sentence will not wrap this up. Y
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Teaching on my birthday is my favorite thing. Hi, I’m 30, and I gave full sized cupcakes to three year olds and I’m sure their parents hate me

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Skipped class. 

I skipped class tonight. 

It makes my heart so sad to not dance, and makes my muscles hurt since I did pointe for the first time in a while during rehearsal yesterday. The struggle. 

This week I mad a doctors appointment to try and figure out what’s making me so sick. I think part of what is making me feel so puny today is the packed weekend I had. We spent all (literally all) of Saturday at the Circuit of the Americas where Formula 1 was going on followed by Taylor Swift in concert. (The real reason I was there.) I was incredible beyond words and I met so many amazing people. Definitely a time for the books. 

It was about a 3.5 hour drive from me so I stayed with a friend who lived about 50 minutes away. I drove straight from there to rehearsal yesterday and didn’t get home until 9:30 last night. 

Apparently it was a bit too much for my body to handle. Yesterday was rough during rehearsal. I felt the most nauseated I’ve ever felt, which is saying something. But I powered through. More stubborn than anything. I hate missing rehearsals and I already had to miss Snow rehearsal on Saturday. 

I really feel I am over exerting myself, but I don’t really feel like I have a choice. I work because I need money. I dance for my sanity. I teach dance for both reasons above. So want options do I really have? 

I’ve been talking with my cousin who has also struggled with health issues and we’re both going in for various testing and stuff to try and get everything pin pointed. I’m nervous that doctors won’t believe me. I’m afraid that I’ll still “appear” too healthy to be taken seriously. It’s hard having people close to you not believe you that you feel so crappy or the time, or seem annoyed that you’re complaining again, or pass it off that you’re just lazy and trying to get out of something when it’s none of those things at all. There’s a guilt that sinks in that you can’t be better, a guilt for bringing them difficulty in having to deal with you. So you push through and try to be as normal as possible as much as you can so they won’t be inconvenienced. 

But does that even help at all? Or does it just make things worse? Does it do any good? Does it help your heart knowing that they aren’t upset or does it just make you less believeable because to them you seem fine? 

My cousin made a good point. Those that are well most of the time don’t know what it’s like to be sick most of the time. And having a diagnosis would help them to know that this is real, and help me know that I’m not crazy. But I’m also afraid that I won’t have what we’re testing for, putting me right back to where I started. 

But what if the diagnosis is nothing you can do anything for? Does that do any good? I’ve already gotten some skeptical eye brow raises to a few I’ve trusted with the possibility of what I’m facing. The emotions that come with all this can be overwhelming. And exhausting. 

So here I am, laying in bed, catching up on greys anatomy because even being productive is exhausting, trying not to be overwhelmed at everything I could be accomplishing with this skipped dance class. Also trying not to guilt trip myself about it all. 

Tomorrow is another day. Wednesday is a class I will take. If I don’t take care of myself, there will soon be no me to even have here to be productive or not. 

Such is life. 

Maybe one day it won’t be like this, but right now it is. So I just have to make the most of it. 

I find myself filled with overwhelming gratitude at the friends that have reached out to me to offer tips and help with all this health stuff. 

This weekend, be it exhausting and all, was good for my soul. I’m grateful. 

This entry was posted in dance.
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