Got a few things bringing me down, as sometimes happens. I thought I’d put the blues to good use by sharing them with you and also sharing what I plan to accomplish anyway, in accordance with my #dontgiveup and #keepgoing mantras.
So let’s get this riff started.
Imagine you dance at a competition and you do great! Imagine whatever “great” means to you – top placements, pure enjoyment, or successfully executing something you had been struggling with. Now imagine you wake up a couple of days after the competition and you feel like crap. I call this “post-comp blues.”
I’m working through this ordeal a little faster than anticipated. I think I have my personal growth on my ballroom journey thus far to thank. And the fact that I am not going through it alone. Teacher is proving himself to be a true partner. Not that I had doubts, but I’m not comfortable depending on others. I am currently in a state of fluctuation, fine one hour, depressed the next. Hopefully, my see-sawing moods didn’t affect the readability of this post too much.
Read the whole How to Cope with Loss series here.
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In Part 2, I find myself starting to adjust to the idea I won’t be going to USDC, although it is still surreal. But the event hasn’t even started yet. This coming week is full of to-do’s and supposed-to’s that are no longer part of my story. But they remain, like cruel calendar reminders that pop up when my mind starts to relax and forget that plans have changed.
Read the whole How to Cope with Loss series here.
We’ve all experienced great loss in one form or another. The cancellation of my trip to USDC is a great loss for me. As a way to cope and heal and, as always, to expose my darkness to the light in the hope of someone relating, I’ve decided to document the aftermath in a blog series. This is Part 1. I have no idea how many parts there will be ultimately. As many as are needed, I suppose.
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I think I’m going through a little ballroom withdrawal. It’s been weeks and weeks since I took a group class. My last few private lessons were a week apart due to Teacher going to comps or having other scheduling conflicts. And I haven’t been going to the studio to practice. I have all sorts of excuses, including the fact that I’m still doing things at home like the journey to splits challenge. I used to practice before and/or after group class. It worked well for me. But now that I’m not taking group, I find it’s hard to motivate myself to go to just practice on my own. This is why I fail at being a gym member. I’m much more likely to go if there is a class or something where I have other people to support me and hold me accountable. But going by myself to work by myself? I feel like I may as well save the gas and stay at home. This withdrawal coupled with anxiety over USDC and reading online how often others practice or have private lessons has me once again pondering a question my demons obsessively taunt me with: at what point can I call myself a dancer?
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I’m in the second week of “can’t afford group classes or practice time” month and doing my best to stay busy so I don’t get hit with some major withdrawal symptoms. I’m usually at the studio three or four nights during the week for class and practice! So having only one night on the books kinda sucks. I’m anticipating July to be the same deal, not even sure I’ll manage the one class a week. We’ll cross that lousy bridge when we come to it. All for Florida and Ohio, that’s what I remind myself. So what does the Girl do when she can’t get her dance fix? I’ve come up with a list.
On today’s episode of Mental Smackdown, I share what happens when an external trigger sets the demons loose in my head and how I attempt to bring order back to the chaos that’s created.
I was having a really good night, feeling genuinely optimistic about life in general. And then my lesson was cancelled. Cue descent into darkness.
I know, I know, so dramatic! It’s just one lesson. Disappointment, sure, but descent into darkness? Really? Financially, it helps me because it stretches my last lesson payment that much further. So what’s my problem? Well, like any good addict, sometimes the only thing that gets me through the day is my next fix. I think it’s been well established that I am addicted to ballroom and my heart and soul gets poured into it. Good or bad, I desperately rely on my two standing lessons to get me through some weeks. I may be hating life, but at least I have a lesson to look forward to. So when that oasis I’m crawling toward turns out to be a mirage? Let’s just say the struggle is real. Still too dramatic? Just wait, it gets better.
Coming back to reality after being immersed in a fantasy world kinda sucks. I spent hours in a ballroom filled with bright colors and bling and beautiful dancing. I barely recognized myself, all made up and covered in sparkly things. But when it was all over, I had to drive home and spend almost an hour deconstructing the fantasy, one bobby pin and glitter-glued strand of hair at a time. Coming back to reality sucks.
The Girl with the Tree Tattoo 