Category: dance

This weekend ended up taking more out of me than I originally anticipated. 

Trying to find the balance in my life while not feeling like I’m nothing but a mass taking up space is a hard feat, it turns out. I was exhausted, but I went to class anyway. 

When I got there I highly considered curling up in my car and sleeping instead, but I didn’t. 

Class was great. There was a new girl, which was refreshing. She has some serious skill, too, and I really hope she comes back! 

I got a couple of “good!”‘s from the teacher, which made me feel, well, good. I was at the barre farther from the mirror, so you can actually see yourself in the mirror, and I stole a few glances here and there. I’m not really one to look at myself in the mirror since I’m prone to self criticism, but this time I was glad I did. It reminded me that my body is shaped the way it is largely due to the work I’ve put in to this art craft to make it work the best for what I do and to create the lines I want. I’m not perfect by a long shot, but I have put 5.5 years into this, and that long into anything shows some sort of results. 

Dancing made me feel alive. It also reminded me of all the reasons I dance for my health. It also brought a harsh reminder of all the ways my body can’t keep up like it used to. I was out of breath sooner, my heart pounded harder, and by the end of it I was ready to sleep for 12 hours. But I had to wake up and go to work. Exhausted. Like I said, still trying to find the balance. 

I did manage some really solid turns. Probably the cleanest turns I’ve had, maybe ever. Including inside turns, which are my demise. Granted, they weren’t en pointe, but I implemented what the teacher said in class on Wednesday about putting your weight onto the standing leg to help with the balance and-bam-I balanced. Imagine that, right? 

I want to go to class tomorrow, and I think I could manage it, except for the fact that this weekend how now become incredibly full. This past weekend was also full, and if I want to be of any use at work I have to cut back. This is all beyond frustrating, but in trying to do what I can while I can and make the most of what I’m given, yet not over do it. 

I got to wear my new skirt! Which was the best part. I’m obsessed, y’all. 

Don’t mind my derp face. I forgot to think about it… oops… 

but isn’t the skirt so pretty? 

Hope y’all are well! 

I made it to a class on Wednesday

And cried most of the way home.

I don’t say this for pity. Honestly, I’d prefer not to say anything. To just keep to myself and fake that everything is okay while I’m around people. I’m good at that. I’ve done it for years, now. It’s easier than trying to explain to people why someone so happy would be unhappy, or whatever terms you want to insert there. I still write here because I feel I owe it to the people who have been following along for years. Those friends I’ve made through social media. The ones who have reached out to me out of their own experiences and helped me get answers. I write for the ones still struggling to find their own, to show them that they’re not alone and that everything they’re going through is allowed and okay.

Sometimes I forget I’m sick. The reminders are subtle and with a low-impact day I can get through somewhat unphased. I start feeling good, and subsequently take on more than I can handle and end up worn out by simple things.

Being sick is still an adjustment. Having a diagnosis is new to me, and I’m still having to adjust my life to what this means.

I overdid it on Tuesday, causing me to really feel it on Wednesday. But I was determined to make it to a class, especially since my favorite teacher was teaching and summer classes are always the best classes. There were five of us, which was perfect, honestly. 

It had been a while since I’d been in a class, and I was given really good corrections. Things I’ve been struggling with for a while and need to think about. The hard part was filtering through all the things my brain was telling me. It became quite the chore, trying to decide between what was a correct thought and what was self criticism. More infuriating still, knowing that I had been able to do this and more even just last year.  Knowing that I’m not able to progress, but instead falling behind, and knowing that this is to be my new normal. It was the struggle of how much to fight and when to accept defeat. 

My entire dance story has been riddled with struggle. I could hardly go a month without getting injured in some way or having something happen to me causing me to miss or sit out. But even among all the criticism, and being asked “how long are you going to do this dance thing?” I always knew that I could fight. I could fight and work hard and progress. In my life, even, if there’s something I don’t like I know I have the power to change it. This is something I’ve learned over the years, but now I know that avoiding or procrastinating or just sitting back and complaining won’t do anything to alleviate the problem. Dance helped teach me that. You want change? Work for it. Go in the direction of where you want to be and you’ll get there.

 I’ve tasted the sweet victory of working hard and knowing that in time the work will pay off. I’ve seen the pay off. I’ve felt that indescribable feeling that comes with it. And now I’m faced with the one change I never saw coming; an illness that takes away the ability to do the one thing I’ve learned causes change. I’ve lost the ability to push through, the energy to fight for what I’m working for. I’m having to come to terms with the fact that the one thing that’s gotten me to where I am the last 28.5 years is the thing I can no longer do or count on. 

Being in the studio felt like home. It felt right, where I’m supposed to be. Why is it, then, that the place that felt so comforting in my current world of chaos found its own way of being chaotic if only between my ears? 

I felt defeated, when really even being there is a triumph these days. Making it through the entire class is something I should be celebrating. 

I’m still trying to figure everything out. Trying to adjust and accept and learn my new reality. I’m trying not to be too hard on myself, but being sick is a lonely place to be, and I have the advantage of being an introvert. 

Proper summer classes begin this next week. Adult ballet is, thankfully, earlier, and even then still late for me to get through my entire day now–an enfuriation on its own. 

I’m hopeful that all hope isn’t loss. That maybe there’s something ahead that I can’t see that will help all of this. But I also know that this isn’t typically my life. And even though I can’t fight like I used to, I have to figure out a new way to fight. That my story isn’t over. That dance will be possible in some way. Right now it all might seem overwhelming, but that maybe it won’t always be that way. 

I had a blog written last week, but it didn’t save before I got a chance to post it. Bleh. 

There were classes this week, but I wasn’t able to go to them. There are classes this week, and then summer begins the next week. I’ll be teaching two classes on Saturdays, and hopefully getting to attend the adult classes twice a week. 

My body seems to be adjusting to the medicine I’m on, which is just for the repercussions from not having a gallbladder. It doesn’t fix everything, as I still get really tired, but it does help, as I’m not near as weak since I can actually eat food now. 

I’m hopeful that things will be okay. 

My future is uncertain. I hope to find out more st my follow up in August on whether this seems to be something that will last long term or if it’s something that could improve with time. Until then, I’m doing my best to take it easy when I can, yet still doing enough to make me feel like I’m more than just dead weight. 

I’ll try to get to classes in the fall, but can’t really gauge whether that will happen until I’m there. I will for sure be teaching. 

It’s funny; being an adult ballet dancer I often get asked, “how long are you going to keep up this whole ballet thing?” With a tone as though it is nothing more than a childhood dream. And I used to say “as long as I have feet, I’m going to dance.” I didn’t think that the thing threatening to take me out isn’t the fact that I have feet, but rather if I have the energy to make it. I never thought it would be a question because my body barely lets me get out of bed. In my head, my drive and passion was enough to make that certain. But now it’s not. Now the thing trying to snuff my dreams is completely out of my control, and the one thing that could actually do it. Without the energy to do it, you just can’t. There isn’t a way to work around it. I never saw this coming. 

Thankfully, all my big dreams have been accomplished. Thankfully, my doctor encourages me to go to class any chance I get. Thankfully I’m still able to go some times, even if it isn’t near as much as I’d like and even if I essentially have to hang up my pointe shoes. 

That’s okay. 

It’s hard to be on this side dreams, sometimes. But also invigorating. Knowing that I did it. 

Now, I’m sitting on my couch watching Harry Potter instead of in my house cleaning to try and get back into it after a terrible flea infestation. (Pier and beam in the country… the struggle is real.) 

Hope you all are well. Thanks for sticking with me! 

We had our annual recital this weekend. 

My last recital was last year, so I didn’t dance this weekend, but I did teach my first three classes this year, and I had one class the first night and two classes the second night. 

When I first came on as a teacher, I didn’t know if I could do recital. I’ve never choreographed before, how the heck was I gonna do that three times? How was I gonna pick costumes and music and put moves to the music and teach tiny children how to do those moves? 

I enlisted the help of friends and tried to get choreographing done before tax season came on so that way I didn’t feel more pressure when spring came. Plus, I wanted my kids to have as much time to learn it as possible to hopefully be able to have it as clean as possible. Granted, this is so much easier when you only have three dances rather than the numerous ones my fellow teachers have. 

Honestly, i wasn’t sure i would get a recital out of my 3-4 year old class. It was rough from the first day, having to use much of my time just to keep kids from running around the entire time, using any form of teaching powers I could think of. By second semester, it was starting to progress. The kids were beginning to behave and we were able to actually teach them things and get through an entire class. We were able to give them a recital and actually go through the choreography with them. 

I wasn’t sure how they would do on stage. I was sure one would cry the entire time if I could get her out there. There was only one out of seven that I knew for sure would dance, the rest were very hit and miss. 

We had a rehearsal on Thursday. At our allotted time, only two of my seven were there. So we ran it once. Then we got one more and ran it our second time. Then two more got there, changed their kids in the wings, and we were able to run it a third time for the other two. I was super grateful because they were the ones I knew would do well with knowing what to expect to get the best results. One of the missing ones was sick Thursday, but thankfully felt fine on Saturday and was able to dance. She was the flipping cute one that everyone in the audience was laughing at the melting of their hearts. My one I thought would cry didn’t, and all of them at least did some of the dance moves, which at this age was more than I could help for. The one I knew would dance did great and did the entire thing. They were a bit difficult to get off the stage, but it worked and they were so adorable. 

My 4-5 year old class was before there’s on Saturday. They have been such a dream class all year. The perfect size, everyone so focused, tiny little sponges just soaking up everything. I was able to make the dance a little more complex and know they’d be just fine to do it. What’s more, I had to change it two weeks before show because two dropped which threw off my numbers and the original choreography. But the girls did so great at remembering the change and doing well. This class got the same costume we had used my last recital at my old studio before it shut down. They also got my favorite song. The tutu was purple and turns out so many of them have purple as their favorite color. Winning! 

They were all there for rehearsal on Thursday. Day of show, one of them was missing her shoes. Thankfully I knew one of the moms of my tall student from my other class, so we were able to borrow hers and then switch them back before they danced. We were the third dance and when we get on stage, I realize one of the girls was still in the bathroom. The other 6 were on stage, in the dark, while we rushed for the missing one. We got her back, put her on stage in the wrong spot and she gently told me in a whisper, “I stand by Evelyn” which, thank God, because it would have messed up everything had she been in the wrong spot. But she’s so smart and studious. 

I’m so proud of this class. They all were so focused all year and worked really hard. I’ll hopefully have some of them next year and some even this summer, which makes me so happy. I love them so much and they show so much promise and hope. 

One of them gave me a gift at rehearsal. 

She wrote the card herself 😭 it melted my heart. 

I absolutely love candles and was so excited to find this inside. It smells divine! 

When the year began, she was the student that encouraged me the most, just in her deminor. She was so excited to be there and loved me so much and it made my Saturdays something I looked forward to rather than something I dreaded. It made me feel like I could do this, that I wasn’t completely screwing everything up. As the year went on, this whole class made me feel that way. I can’t explain how much this meant to me to have, especially this year with everything that’s happened. It’s more than words can describe. 

My 5-6 year olds were my biggest class, which at times I found hard to manage. I was worried maybe I wasn’t as much as I needed to be. That I could be more, do more for them. This class taught me the most about teaching, and creative ways to adjust to the needs of the class. 

By the time we got to the last week, I was blown away. Even the one who struggled the most had learned so much. More than I could have hoped. They knew the terminology, they would ask about things way above their level. I’d show them and half of them could do it with impressive technique. The other half was still good. 

We started their recital early, and even updated it to give them more complex steps. I kept it relatively simple with the hopes that they would do really well in what they knew rather than trying to make it more difficult and them putzing through it. I was nervous it might seem too simple compared to everyone else’s. 

The night of rehearsals, one of the moms came up to me and told me she was blown away by how much her daughter had learn this well and how she knew the entire dance so well and looked so good doing it. I told her she was one of two of my girls that I knew I could always count on to know what to do, even my subs said the same. I told her how talented her daughter is and she thanked me for being such a great teacher. 

This really touched my heart. It’s as though everything I was afraid of melted away. That I did well. That these girls learned something. 

One of my girls had told me toward the end of the year, “my mommy said I had to do recital and then I don’t have to dance anymore if I don’t want to.” On Friday, she came up to me, extremely excited, and told me, “I want to take ballet again next year!” You could see the change in her. She was understanding and asking great questions and remembering things. It made me so proud. 

One of my other babies came up to me day of recital and gave me these 

With a card that she wrote her name on, thanking me for teaching her this year. My heart was a puddle. It meant so much to me. 

A bunch of the girls colored me pictures, which of course I’ll keep forever. I have pictures kids I babysat drew me that I’ve shown them on their wedding day. 

They went on stage and completely rocked it. It brought me so much joy to see them. I could have watched it forever. 

Seeing them watching me at times while doing this dance and doing it so freaking well, it’s one of those moments that you just cherish. 

Kids are my favorite kind of people. They’re honest. They love without reservation. They’re so trusting and resilient. Getting to be a part of these kids lives, even if just for this one year, it means everything to me. I know I’ll never forget them, I just hope they don’t forget me, or what they’ve learned this year. I hope that spark inside them starts a fire that guides them throughout life. 

I wrote them all cards and gave them to them the last day of class, and took pictures with the whole class. I hope they realize how increasingly proud I am of each of them. 

That class ending was one of the hardest things, because chances are I won’t teach them again. They’re getting older. I want to keep them safe in this year forever, but I know that’s not realistic. I just hope this year is a good memory for them to reflect on as they grow. 

One of my girls moms told me she had something for me and asked where I would be at intermission. I told her I’d be in the rehearsal hall with the girls. 

When I got there, she had a James Avery bag that she handed to me. My jaw dropped and I could feel my eyes getting teary, knowing that anything in that bag had to be quite expensive. I opened it to find 

This beautiful necklace. The necklace is made to hold charms, and they picked out the heart charm for me as well. I was speechless. I put it on immediately and thanked them profusely. Her mom thanked me for teaching her daughter this year. She told me how much she appreciated me. My eyes tear up at the memory. 

After recital, some friends and me went to Macaroni Grill as per usual. I saw her mom and turns out we were seated near them. I went over and said hi and my sweet girls face lit up. Her mom and grandma and dad and aunt were all there, and they told me how much she talks about me and how much she loves me and how much she’s learned. They all thanked me. And I thanked them, because I love this sweet girl so much. 

I don’t think I can explain how much these gifts and words have meant to me. The class itself was proof enough to me that the year was successful, but hearing it from the parents and girls was so reassuring. 

If you appreciate someone, if someone has taught you something, tell them; show them. It means more than you’ll ever realize. I know, for me, it’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of me life. 

These girls have taught me more than I ever thought I could learn; about teaching, about ballet, about people, about love, about passion. Thinking of them fills me with a warmth I can’t describe. They have ruined me of all future classes because they were all so wonderful this year. I am so grateful. 

And honestly, I couldn’t have done it without my assistants. No way, no how. They were at times life lines, especially with getting so sick. I don’t think they know or realize how much they helped me. They have set a high standard for any future assistants I may have, as they have seemed to read my mind and been there before I even knew what I needed. 

This year has left me remembering what I love most about ballet. About life. About everything. And I’m so beyond grateful for that. 

It’s amazing how quickly things can change.

Two months ago, I was preparing for the final run-throughs and theatre week of our spring show, Snow White. Now, I can’t even make it to a ballet class because my body is just too drained. Heck, I can hardly make it through a work day at this point, and it’s the off season.

Granted, two months ago, I was struggling so badly with whatever was attacking my body. I remember the rehearsals where I had to sit out and lay on the floor with minimal movement just to avoid passing out, with no explanation. I remember the freighted look on the cover’s face as she had been so new in to be the cover for the role which had about 6 different ways the dance could be done depending on where you stood, and she had never done my section before. (She pulled it off, like an epic cover.)

But now, I’m diagnosed. Something I’ve waited over a decade for. I know at least part of what it is that’s causing me to feel this way, even if I’m not 100% sure how it began or what caused it to stir up. I can’t just sit back and pretend like it’s not a thing anymore.

This is a thing.
I feel this thing.
This thing is exhausting as heck.
I can’t ignore this thing.

It’s annoying, not being able to do things that a normal person should be able to do. It’s frustrating, having to scale back and limit myself so much. It’s exhausting, having to explain it to people who don’t really believe me just so I can press through the things I can’t cut out of my life. Existing isn’t supposed to be this exhausting.

I have a great group of friends who are here for me, and without them there to listen to my endless complaining, I don’t know where I’d be. One has even offered to come over and help me get my house back in order from the recent flea infestation epidemic. (Note: if you live in a house that on pier and beam, get dang skirting around the bottom of the house so stupid cats can’t come and live under your house with their flea infested selves, causing them to get into your house.) This is huge because I’m currently having to stay in my parents house, which while I appreciate them so much, it’s its own kind of draining, being there.

Still, most of this I have to face alone. I don’t know what I’d do without the help of friends, and occasionally my sister, who graciously went to the grocery store with me Sunday because I honestly didn’t know if I’d make it through a crowded place and manage to get everything I needed without panicking or perhaps passing out.
But aside from the occasional time someone can help, it’s just me.
I still have to work because I have bills I have to pay and no one can help me pay them.
I have to keep my house in order because I live alone and no one is gonna do it for me.
I’m an adult. Living a successful life on my own. And now illness decides I’ve been avoiding it’s subtle nudges the last 14 years. Apparently it decided it was time for an onslaught of struggles. Ones I find it hard to ignore or avoid.

I’ve been exhausted since about 12:30, but really I’ve been tired since my eyes opened this morning. There were about two hours that were manageable, but now I feel like I just ran a marathon and the endorphins have worn off. Except I’ve been sitting at my desk most of the day, doing simple bookkeeping. After this, I have to go to recital rehearsal for my babies, which I’ve never done before and makes me pretty anxious. I don’t entirely know what is expected of me, though I have asked a dear friend what I need to know and she’s helped me out immensely. I’m just afraid I’ll miss something. I probably won’t. Ugh, I want my bed.

This new reality has my heart in a sense of grief.
My doctor encouraged me to still attend dance classes, but no more than I can handle. (ie. no more shows. Which, I mean, I knew that.) But at this point anything past work seems like too much.

I want nothing more than to be able to take class. To not feel like I could fall asleep anytime or anywhere if I just closed my eyes for more than 30 seconds. I want to be normal; have a normal life, pursue the things I love, get out of my house more than just to come to work, hang out with friends. All of this has really just begun for me–the extremity of it, that is–and my mind is already going a million miles an hour. I want to sleep for five days, but even then I know it wouldn’t do anything. It’s not so much that I’m sleepy or tired, it’s that my body is physically drained.

I’m trying not to worry about what the future may or may not hold, but that’s also kind of difficult to do at this point. I’m not sure if I’ll ever improve past this point. Right now, I just don’t want to get worse. I can’t tell if the medications are helping or making it worse, but have a fancy app that helps me keep track of what I have to take and when and how my body reacts. So that’s cool.

I hope this blog is still able to be one where I get to post about ballet, and that I don’t find myself unable to go.

One thing is for certain, I am extremely grateful to the discipline I have learned the last five and a half years that I have been taking classes. It’s helping me to endure and do my best to fight this stuff however I can.

I hope you stick around, still, even in the uncertainty of my future in dance.

The last class I took was a wonderful class, though I find myself doing better after a break since I don’t think to compensate for things that hurt, haha! I got a bunch of great compliments from my teacher and even if the moves caused some pain, they felt good to do. Ethereal, even. I caught myself in the mirror at barre and couldn’t believe that this was me here, doing this thing, and looking this way doing it. Almost as though a dream had been made real. I don’t ever want to lose that. I don’t want to have to give it up.

Hopefully I’ll be able to make summer classes. And if classes are just too late in the fall, my porch is done which gives me room to actually try things, though the boards make stubbing my toes a high probability, haha.

In the midst of all this, I ordered a new skirt from Flic Flac Dance that I’m really excited for. Hopefully it’ll be the inspiration I need to keep myself moving.

I went to class on Wednesday. 

For the first time since probably march? Honestly I don’t remember the last time I was able to take a class. 

I remember the last class, though. It was Mrs Alex’s class, which is my favorite adult class. I remember feeling dizzy, and sick, and weak. I remember struggling. And I remember not being able to stay past barre because my body was too done. 

I have Fridays off again since tax season is over, so I stayed for class Wednesday since it was the last class of the year. 

I was exhausted, but I pushed through. 

As per usual, I was the best I’d been in a while. This happens any time I come back after being out, and I think I figured out why. I think it’s because I forget what hurts, so I don’t account for it, so I do everything so great. 

I definitely felt it the next morning. My knee was throbbing, my legs were sore, my ankle was angry. I was exhausted. 

I had my follow up appointment with my rheumatologist yesterday. I told her how I hadn’t been able to go to class since march or so because I was too exhausted. She was really concerned, especially since it has escalated so quickly. 

We talked through some things, got the lab results, and did some examining. She was curious as to whether my legs were actually two different lengths, or if it was something in my back. 

My left leg is 80 cm and my right is 81 cm. Which may not seem like much, but it really is. We’re not sure why my leg is shorter, but it is. So I’ll have to have the lift in my shoe for the rest of forever. Sweet. 😂

She was shocked by the extremity of my hypermobility, and i brought up ehlers danlos syndrome again. I showed her diagnostic sheet that the ehlers danlos website people had put out this week and all the things that were applicable to me. She gave be a verbal affirmation that I do have the hypermobility type of ehlers danlos syndrome. I’m excited because it’s finally something. I’ve been sick for 14 years, been seeing doctors for 9, and I have been trying like hell to try and convince people that it’s not all in my head. I’ve finally found doctors that agree that I am not okay and have been working with me to find answers. 

She said that having your gallbladder out can cause your body to have auto immune type symptoms. She prescribed me a medication to help with that. 

The bloodwork shows that I am a carrier of the mono gene, which has caused me to have chronic fatigue syndrome. I’ve never had mono, but I apparently have been exposed to someone with it, so my body has been fighting off the virus even though I’m not “sick with it.” That explains why I’m so freaking tired all the time. 

She agreed that shows are too much, but encouraged me to keep dancing as many classes as I can get there. She also told me to rest as much as humanly possible, which gives me an excuse to be an introvert #bless. But it sucks because I’m still trying to get my house back in order and scrubbed, and not being able to do much without being completely exhausted is annoying as heck. 

I’m currently writing this while laying on my floor, in pain from throwing out my back as well, trying to plot out what I can actually accomplish today with the energy I have left. 

Summer classes start in june, so I’m very excited at the prospect of getting back into class and getting home earlier. Hopefully it’s okay and I’m able to attend them without being too tired. And hopefully the medication I’ll be taking will help. 

My stomach finally started feeling better on Sunday, and I was hopeful I would be able to make it to class this week.

Then on Sunday night, my sinuses decided I needed a swift kick in the face.

Already exhausted from the overload of pushing through last week, having simple sinus issues makes sleeping weird. I oddly enough could still breathe through my nose mostly, so that wasn’t horrible, but it caused me to have weird dreams and restless sleep, almost feeling like I didn’t sleep much at all, even though I knew I had.

I still went to work. Still made it through the day. Still hoped it would all be okay and once I got going I’d do better. Which I did, for the most part, but by 5 o’clock, I was wiped out. On Monday, reluctantly, I went home.

But today is Wednesday. And today is another opportunity for a class. A great class. I went to be hopeful that I would be well enough to go. Then I woke up and the medication I took left me feeling even weirder, and the prospect of getting to stay for class seemed less and less.

I did finally get to go to the chiropractor yesterday. Even he was like, “I haven’t seen you in ages!” and I’m wondering if having missed for so long may even play a factor into it. (I haven’t had sinus issues in about six years.) But, unfortunately, I just don’t think staying for class is going to happen again today.

My mind is doing a number with me on this one:

“You always have an excuse. You’re never going to get back into the studio if you succumb to every one of them. When will enough be enough? Stop being lazy.”

But see, that’s just it. I’m not being lazy.

Unfortunately, sometimes you have to take time. Sometimes you have to factor in that pushing through could do more harm that good. And even if it lasts longer than  a month, sometimes that’s what it takes.

I successfully avoided the burnout I experienced last year where I had worked my first tax season and made it through Swan Lake, having to take four days off work following being unable to get out of bed. But that doesn’t mean I’m out of the woods. Even with all my precautions, my body is still protesting. And though I don’t want to, I have to listen. If I ignore this, it could be more harm than good.

Thankfully I’m still able to enjoy things like watching my company and my friends company and companies I don’t know perform at the Regional Dance America National Festival, where they are live streaming their performances each of the nights. (The link is here.) I’m able to remain inspired, even if I can’t participate. I was supposed to go with them this year, but unfortunately, that fell through. It’s a blow knowing they’re taking class from one of my all time favorite ballerinas, Lauren Anderson, but it’s still cool knowing that my babies are there and they’re getting to do it still, even if I can’t join them. I’m so proud of them and all they’re accomplishing.

Also, the dance world via instagram is leading to new friendships and fun connections, like last night when someone commented on my story of watching the live stream, causing us to realize she went to the same studio one of my friends now goes to since they moved. The world is small and incredible.

If you follow me and haven’t yet, please introduce yourself! I’d love to get to know you, especially if I don’t follow you yet. Sometimes new follows get lost in a surge or happen on a day I can’t check my account and I miss them. I don’t want to miss them.

Hope you all are well!

❤

I haven’t posted a blog in 17 days.

I still haven’t updated about Beeville’s performance.

I’m writing now and, honestly, still have no idea where this blog is going to go.

But it’s been 17 days, and I feel like I at least owe you guys an update to the silence.

As some of you may know, my main job is at a CPA firm. Considering the work we do here centers around deadlines, and a great lot of them specifically around the April 15th deadline, I have been doing mostly this and nothing else. Since the 15th was on a Saturday this year, it bumped the filing date to the Monday. Monday was Emancipation Day, which is a federal holiday, bumping it further to Tuesday.

I am proud to say I have survived my second tax season, which this year we were kind of unsure as to how that would even be possible. Yet, we forged on and made it happen, with a good amount of help from close friends and colleagues. (Go us!)

Of course, this years shows happened right in the thick of it. Last year, it was the week after, so it worked out pretty slick. Granted, last year I ended up so sick I couldn’t get out of bed for four days, so I’ve been trying to do what I can to avoid something like that again.

I sleep until the absolute last minute, giving myself about 10 minutes tops to get ready for work. (Thankfully, I wear dresses, which makes it so much easier.) I hardly wear contacts anymore because my eyes are stingy in the morning, not to mention the extra time it takes to factor in putting them on and then wearing make up. (I can’t wear it with glasses because I can’t see to be far enough from the mirror not to hit it with the brush. Plus, ya know, more sleep.) I tried going to Mrs. Alex’s class after the first weekend of shows to keep me up to par for Beeville, but I could hardly last through barre and thought it better to just go home instead of trying to push it.

Beeville was hands-down my worst show, but even so it went pretty well.

Typically, the first time we are on the stage, my brain decides to space out and I’ll instinctively do things that are definitely not the choreography or the correct timing. I can typically shake it off because it’s just a rehearsal and doesn’t really matter.
This show, that didn’t happen.
Well, until Beeville.

I found myself completely spacing out at simple things I should know. My timing was off, my brain would just stop recalling the next steps I needed, and I only got along as well as I did because of muscle memory. It was frustrating.

The good news is that I did a part I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do at the end of the last dance, which made me feel accomplished in spite of it all.
The best news is that Beeville is always such an incredible audience. They react and you can hear it. They are so enthusiastic. They remind you why you put in all the long hours at rehearsal to do this. You see the magic in the kids eyes when you meet them afterwards. (One such tiny human even gave me her flowers. Cue me becoming a liquid state.) They didn’t see me as the one who continuously messed up, but instead as one of the dancers with the fancy shoes in the pretty dance who just helped create this entire world for them to escape to for a time. To be the magic in someone’s life, especially a strangers, well there’s nothing more you can ask for than that.

I spent the time before going on stage of my last show hanging out with cherished friends. At times even literally, as my friend and her husband brought eno’s (Hammocks) and invited me to hang out in between rehearsals. It was such a beautiful day, and one of the first days I had been outside all spring. Spring is my favorite season, so to be inside during most of it before the weather turns sweltering makes my little heart sad. Getting to enjoy it for a few hours that day was perfect.

After show, there were pictures and hugs and high fives and all. Two friends of mine and I went to the local sonic for ice cream and made great memories hanging out there. All in all, it was a great end to this crazy run that is show season.

I haven’t been in a class since.

I’ve taught my babies, and thankfully I’ll finally have my Saturday class back tomorrow. Poor things have had subs for a month (though I am grateful for the subs who stepped in!) and haven’t worked on their recital at all in that time since it was so new. I’m not so worried about my 4-5 as I am my 3-4 who have had much less practice. Tomorrow they get their costumes, which is going to be adorable. There’s a little less than a month until their recital. Summer begins first week of June. A whole other set of madness. (But the new babies are so cute it hurts!)

I’ve wanted to attend my adult classes, but the prospect of getting home so late is something I can’t afford currently. Not to mention the effort of exerting all that energy I just don’t have. My body is currently doing that thing it used to do where anytime I eat it decides it’s a great time to make me feel that feeling right before you throw up, without actually throwing up, for at least four hours. It makes for pretty miserable days, and the thought of using my core makes me want to just cry. I’m so tired. My body is tired. But I still have so many things required of me that I can’t just sit at home and give my body the rest it’s demanding of me. Instead, I cut back on anything I can spare and hope that I can get out of bed in the morning and don’t end up like I did last year. I had a large amount of last weekend off, which was good for my body (Thanks, Easter!) and the workload is significantly less on this side of the filing date, but I’m not in the clear entirely.

I miss class. I long to feel that exhausted high after a good class. I want to be back in my element, at the barre, working towards bettering myself and my ability. And honestly, if I have to be away too long, it’ll start making me sick in it’s own way. I’m hoping to be able to avoid that, and really hoping I can make it in at least once next week. The good news is the adult ballet class starts earlier in the summer, so I won’t get home near as late, giving me added incentive to push through and go.

I’m not sure what all this means for me in the long run. I have my follow up appointment with the rheumatologist next month which I’m trying to prepare for. I don’t feel I was as prepared as I needed to be the first go around. A lot of this medical stuff is over my head and I’m not sure which answers are the right ones. And at this point, I have officially been sick more of my life than I have been well. I don’t know what the blood work is going to say, or why it keeps indicating that I’m not sick when I clearly am. And it’s not just stress, but the stress definitely makes it worse. I may have to fight to try and see a new specialist, which would suck because it would take more time to do so. The waiting is the hardest part. Hurry up and wait, all. the. time. I’m trying to remain hopeful in anyway I can, but even that proves difficult.

But I’ll make it. I’ll somehow get through and do everything I need to, all the while not punching people who make comments out of ignorance. (This, of course, isn’t every comment. The ones of concern are totally welcomed. As are the open-minded curiosity. There’s a difference between those and the ignorant. I digress.)

Hopefully I’ll have more updates for you soon. And hopefully they don’t significantly decline in quality now that I’m not doing exciting shows anymore. Not to say I never will, but ya know. Anyway.

I hope you all are doing well. Thanks for taking an interest in my story and following along thus far. Hopefully I’ll have more pictures for y’all soon as well.

❤

This weekend is our last rehearsals at the down town studio. 

Which is where I am currently. 

Yesterday we ran the whole show all the way through in costume. I completely forgot about getting pictures, but it went better than I was expecting. I wasn’t sure at all how my body would handle it, and I was shaking by the time we were doing the center part of warm up. 

I forced myself to keep a positive attitude. To not let my anxiety win out. I made myself take deep breaths before we went on for our first dance, hoping that it would encourage me to remember to breathe the entire dance. Apparently it worked, because I did the best I’ve done so far. It made me feel better about going into theatre week, but now I have to make sure I do the best I can to stay as healthy as I can be going into this week of long rehearsals and work deadlines and show weekend. 

Honestly, I’m not letting myself think about it all. Because if I think about it all, then I realize how overwhelming everything I’m doing really is. Not to mention the pressure I feel people are putting on me to keep up with everything I have on my plate without showing any inch of wear. It’s exhausting. I can’t even let myself think about things past shows and deadlines, because if I do that I get this tightness and panic that sits in my chest and doesn’t help anything. 

We’re here for another 3.5 hours. It’s our last bit of fine tuning and really getting the kinks out. Wednesday we begin rehearsals in the theater, and Friday is the school show. I won’t be in it, so I get released from rehearsal early Thursday as well. 

I hope to make updates throughout, but I’m not sure if that will happen. But there will be pictures! 
I hope you are all doing well!