Saturday 16th February was a black day, the darkest I had known for a long time. My heart was still located in my lower-bowel and my throat was closed up. I couldn't have cared less what happened to me, and yet felt that my feelings were entirely irrational. All this just because I couldn't dance for a few weeks! It felt incredulous because this wasn't even my profession - I danced seriously for a hobby, but never for money. So why did I feel so fucking sad?
I suppose one reason I was so low was because I had just got to an exciting point in my dancing having re-started after a 7 year injury break (for chronic back pain and a disc prolapse) so the threat of having to quit again felt very real indeed.
Other reasons for feeling so sad were missing friends from the class and the community spirit that is DW, where I dance. Perhaps the severing of a regular flow of adrenaline and a regular feeling of "being high" and the breach of endorphines that gave my day kick. I don't know.
I chose to talk to someone anonymous about this and then bawled my eyes out. I never really cried when it happened and felt very shaky and very possibly in shock after the initial injury, so I suppose the tears were a release of all that I had internalized over the week. It felt like the end of the world.
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