Month: September 2018

My classes have been mostly filled with the most wonderful kids this year. I am ridiculously grateful for this as it could really have been a rough year. I have quite a few that I’ve taught before, which always makes me so happy, and some of them take classes on days I teach so I still get to hug their necks. It warms my heart seeing them excited to see me. I don’t think they realize I’m just as excited to see them.

Things seem to have shifted of late. I could try to pinpoint why, but I’m not really sure. I’m trying to just take everything in stride and see where it takes me, but all of this has left me sort of pulling back from here and my instagram, which I never thought would happen. Maybe it’s a good thing, I’m sure time will tell.

It no doubt ties in to health stuff. As I lay here on my bed typing this blog post, which is a culmination of many different ideas for posts over the last few weeks, I feel absolutely exhausted and overwhelmed at the thought of the upcoming week. This isn’t even with digging into the emotional toll this all actually has on me, but rather is just the surface, visible emotion.

I’m learning a lot about myself, which is a good thing, I just find it difficult to not feel guilty at not keeping up with all the ballet goodness as much as I used to. The opinions in my head get really hard on myself about how I worked so hard to build this up and now I’m not even fighting for it anymore. But how can I fight anymore than I do if even just the mundane, normal, day-to-day is more than I can realistically handle right now? I don’t know. I hope to figure it out. I love what I have found through dance and I appreciate you all more than I can say. I just feel a bit lost, I suppose.

I turned 30 last weekend, which began with me teaching 3 classes that Saturday. Many of the teachers take the day off if they teach on their birthday, or end up going out of town or something. I love teaching on my birthday. What better way is there to begin a new year than surrounded by kids who still think birthday’s are magical? I bring them cupcakes and their eyes light up with hopes for me and the new year. Not to mention adorable 3 year olds hugging my leg and saying “happy burfday” in their adorable speech impediment way of speaking. I don’t know how to handle birthdays. They make me feel awkward. So the past few years, and especially since I’ve started dancing, I try to take class or teach it every year. That way, I’m doing something I love, and also it fills the time and gets rid of awkward questions about my plans for the day.

It’s coming up on 7 years since I started dancing. This next week, actually. But do I really get to count the last year if I took a total of 4 classes the entire year, and wasn’t able to get all the way through any of them? Typing that sentence just broke me. Realizing that this thing I found and love so deeply and have fought for these past seven years is something I can hardly participate in anymore, knowing that nothing is certain in my future with this thing I cherish. It’s a lot to take in. (add in the guilt from the mind opinions, and it’s quite a doozy.)

Thank y’all for sticking with me through all of this. For loving me as a person and not just a dancer.

Nutcracker auditions were last weekend. I, obviously, couldn’t audition, but was asked back as a party parent, so I’ll at least be on stage again. I know standing on stage for Act 1 is going to hurt my back, and I’m not even sure if my shoe lift will fit in my character shoes.

Have I told y’all it’s only half of what I need? No?
Well it’s true. The lift in my shoe is 12mm, but apparently I need 24mm to be close to having my hips even when I walk. The problem with this is 24mm is FREAKING THICK so shoes don’t stay on with that much. My chiropractor is brainstorming ways handle this, but it’s possible I may have to special order shoes that have a left one with lift underneath. Hopefully I can find some that don’t look geriatric. In other health news, I managed to break my cane? I’m winning the granny life right now.

In other news, I have started finding time to write more, since sitting still is sometime I suck at but have to do now. Writing is (obviously) something I’m passionate about, and if you’re interested in the instagram account, it’s right here.

Hopefully I’ll have fun Nutcracker updates as December gets closer.

Love you guys

It’s been a minute.

Even then, I sat with just that first sentence for longer than I’d care to admit.

I wasn’t able to make any more classes past the one with Lindsi Dec like I was hoping to. My body was too exhausted to even try making it through a class, and I knew I needed to save up any bit of energy I had for the obligations I have before me.

Classes started August 20th. So far, they have been absolutely incredible. The kids I have are mostly dream children, and I have to ask myself what I did to get so lucky to have them. I’m very excited for the prospects of this year, although I am also on guard that I could still have many children added to my classes. Still, I think a wonderful tone has been set for the year, and I’m excited to see the progress these dancers make.

Life for me looks very different than it did this time last year. Heck, it looks different than it has ever before, really. My work load is “minimal” but also is all I can stand without extreme health repercussions. There are days that are easier to accept this than others. The difficult days have been so frequent that I’ve hardly even gotten on my ballet instagram to keep up with things. (For that I apologize.)

I used to see my friends on their go through an illness or injury that kept them from dancing for a bit and see them post that they wouldn’t be on because it was too difficult to see the reminders when they knew they couldn’t do that. I didn’t really understand it until these last three or so weeks.

I’m beginning to see, I think, that I’m really not going to be able to be who I used to be. I’ve been sick for years–literally half my life–but now that I have CFS, it’s put my life and my ambitions on hold and taken over. I see these people who are my age out there doing things that I so badly want to be doing, and I tell myself that I’m the only thing holding myself back and to go out there and do it, and then I realize that isn’t true. This illness holds me back, and to just push through it like I’m used to doing with obstacles is not only unwise, but literally threatens my quality of life, which is already way less than it used to be.

I try not to neglect the reality that I am still very lucky to be able to do as much as I do, and I want to make the most of it while I can, but I do have to come to terms with the fact that my life isn’t what it was, it isn’t what I dreamed it could be, and it’s all because of things I couldn’t control no matter how hard I try. And this isn’t something you can just learn once and be on with; it’s a many-faceted lesson that comes and goes in waves, smacking you in the face and leaving you in a puddle of tears when you least expect it.

I’m still trying to do as much as I can with my life while I have it, even if that looks differently than I expected. I’m trying to find ways to contribute to the world and those around me. I’m trying to extend myself the grace to be who I am now and the learning curve to figure out what all of this means for me. It’s a process.

This last year (since the hurricane) was one of uprooting the weeds that have been growing all my life, facing the monsters head on, and taking back my life. It’s looking as those this next year will be a sort of follow up as I fight to define why I’m even here and what my purpose is. As soon as I thought I had it figured out, it gets turned on it’s head and I’m left to start over.

But I’m still alive, and I’m still able to fight for this definition. These ailments don’t define me–I do. I still get that luxury to do so. I get to learn how to be so fully myself that nothing else matters. I’m one of the lucky ones.

 

I apologize in advance if my posts become less frequent. I’ll do my best to update when I have things of note to say. Unfortunately, having my ballet experiences quiet down means I have less and less to say that isn’t just repetitive words you’ve read a thousand times before. Hopefully around Nutcracker, I’ll have strokes of wisdom and all.

Life is weird. It’s one thing, then suddenly it’s not that anymore and you’re left to figure out what to do now.

Thanks for sticking around, y’all.