There goes a fighter.

There were a few different things from yesterday's class that I wanted to write about.
I remembered them at the end of class, but by the time I got to where I could write it down, I had forgotten.
I can remember what I was looking at, what I was taking in of my surroundings when she said it, but I can't remember what it was she said...
Something about gaining strength, I think.

I got upset at myself, because there were things we were doing that I know I knew and understood, but I couldn't get my brain to process enough to actually do them. I guess now that I've finally accepted the fact that I'm sick, the walls have come down and it's laying on me full force. I haven't really been able to eat anything, and that's especially bad on a dance day. My brain just couldn't handle it all. It literally hurt at the end of the class.

Jilissa encouraged us. She asked us what it was that begged us to dance. Why is it that we spend so much time doing this thing? Especially us older ones, what is it that makes us keep coming back? The girls were saying, "because it feels good" as I was thinking, "It's what makes me feel alive." She was saying the way you talk about your time there is a direct reflection of your attitude while being there. This should be our happy place, not something we dread.
That's just it. It is my happy place. Even when the days are really difficult and I can't make it through.
This is what makes me feel alive. When something goes wrong, this is where I want to be. When I want to feel safe, when I want security, when I want to feel accomplished, when I desire to feel love--I want to be at the studio.
And that's what makes this sickness that's holding me back so much harder to deal with. Because it's keeping me from feeling alive. It's keeping me from feeling that sense of accomplishment, from excelling, from improving and enjoying it all. Jilissa said she could tell that as I got frustrated, it just sapped my joy right out of me.
She said we all have days like this--where we feel defeated, where we feel limited, the days we have to fight through. She asked me, "How long have you been dancing?" "Two years in October." I replied.
Everyone reacted in disbelief. "What?!" "That's it?" "Are you serious?" All at once.
"Well, I took when I was little, but I was taught wrong, so I don't really consider it much..."
"Oh my goodness! That's amazing!"

Sometimes I get so upset on how far I want to go that I forget to remember how far I've come.
I've only been in dance--where I'm learning correctly--for almost two years, and where am I? I'm on pointe, I'm in the advanced class, I'm keeping up with the big dogs mostly. After only two years.
Sure, I'm not where I want to be yet. I'm not able to go where I know I'm capable, but I'm so much farther than when I first began. I've overcome so many obstacles. I've pressed through so many difficult days. And it's worth it.
Here comes a fighter.