What are your top three favorite songs right now?

Within the last week or so, I’ve become obsessed with a few “new” songs (new to me haha) and so I’ve gone through the ritual of replacing my go-to songs with some new “obsessions”.

Right now I’m listening to…
1. Idle Town by Conan Gray click here

2. Crush by Tessa Violet click here

3. When The Party’s Over by Billie Ellish click here

October 1997
Age three. My first dance class.
Picture an exceptionally small little girl with all of the worries in the world.
I didn’t know how to accept my feelings. I didn’t know how to process my emotions.

October 2007
Age thirteen. In therapy for eight years. Still learning how to deal with my anxiety. Still learning how to accept that I was living with a mental illness. Still learning to admit to myself that I was living with a mental illness.

October 2017
Age twenty-three. Celebrating twenty years of dance in the studio I love so much.
I have finally learned how to live with my mental illness. I have finally learned how to accept that my Anxiety and my Depression do not define me.

…

Two weekends ago, I had the honor and privilege of celebrating my 20th year recital- living my life on stage surrounded by the people I love the most. When I look back on my life, there is no possible way for me to do so without thinking about how much dancing has saved me.
Living with a mental illness (or illnesses, in my case) means that I treat every day a little bit differently than someone without a mental illness does. Some days, I have to cancel plans. Some days, I run late. Some days, I’m stuck in bed. Some days, I don’t leave the bathroom. Some days, my emotions get to me, and I cry for no reason.
But, some days are good. Some days, I am excited to take on the day. Some days, I look forward to what the unknown will bring me.

I have worked hard to learn how to live around the type of day I am having. I am still working at it. It’s not an easy process. I am still learning how to live my life despite my crippling anxiety. As I have lived with myself for 24 years, I feel pretty confident knowing how to read my body and my mind, and knowing when I need to fight, and when I need to take flight. Some days, my anxiety gets so bad that I am in flight even before I step out of bed. But other days, other battles are worth the fight.

Dancing is a part of me. I am the best me when I am dancing. My Anxiety and my Depression know they aren’t allowed in the studio. They don’t get to me while I’m dancing. Anxiety has taken so much away from my life- but she will never take dancing from me.

I won’t let her.

2013. 15 years.

You lift me. You make me a better woman.

Thank you for twenty beautiful years of love, dedication, and dance.

As part of my journey toward mental wellness and stability, I have suffered through many of these times- feeling like I am not good enough, not being happy in my own skin, not even wanting to look at myself in the mirror.

I have not been feeling like my best self.

And when I’m not feeling like my best self, it’s really easy to start going down a path of terrible thoughts, spinning out of control. Once those thoughts start spinning, it’s really hard to think anything else.

When you live with a mental illness, not every day is going to be great. Not every day is even going to be good. Some days just suck. It is hard to find the motivation to complete mundane tasks.  It is hard to get out of bed.

It is hard to be me.

It is hard to be you.

I think it’s very difficult to be cognizant of the battles that everyone fights, whether they be on the inside of their heads or on the outside of their heads. Living with a mental illness doesn’t make this battle any easier. In fact, it makes it harder. Not only are you in constant Fight or Flight mode with every decision, every move you make- you are also fighting the battles that occur outside of your brain.

Each day, I wake up and for that brief five seconds, my brain forgets that she has to fight. She is not worried. She is not scared. She is not running. She is at peace.

I wish that I could extend those five seconds just a little bit longer every day. Because if I get to a point where my brain feels like she is safe and she doesn’t have to fight, maybe she will decide she likes herself. Maybe if she decides she likes herself, she’ll like me, too.

For now, I can count on my brain to like me when I am dancing. She loves me when I’m dancing. She is free when I’m dancing.

Anxiety has taken many things from me.
She has taken my sanity, my comfort.
She has robbed me of experiences.
Anxiety screams at me constantly. She is louder than the voice inside my head.

There is one thing in the world that settles her.
As soon as I slide my feet into one of three pairs of shoes, she knows her time is up.

She can’t get to me when I am dancing.

I have been many, many things in the last twenty years. I’ve taken on different roles. I’ve played many parts. My weight has fluctuated. My face has changed. I have grown in so many different ways.
Three things in my life have been constant.

Anxiety.
Depression.

And dancing.

My favorite me is who I get to be when I am dancing. I am fearless. I am safe. I am free.
I am any personality I want to be. I am anything I want people to feel when they watch me perform.
I can feel the music move through my soul. My world is whole when my body is in a rhythm.

The hour and a half I get to spend in the studio on Wednesday nights is the only hour and a half of peace I get all week.
Peace of mind.
Peace and quiet.
The speakers could be shaking because of the volume of the music, and it is still the quietest my brain will be all week.

This peace wouldn’t be possible without the support of the greatest group of women in the entire world. Wednesday at 6:30, you are my entire heart. It’s been 8 years, and every week is better than the last. You make me a better dancer, and a better person. You push me to move, create, inspire. Each of you holds a place in my heart, and your love gets me through my darkest hours.

My mental illnesses have constantly let me down, disappointed me, hurt me, and stopped me from living my best life for the last twenty years, but that’s okay. Because at least dance has never given up on me.