After a series of many horrible and not so much horrible as just out right ridiculous events I have decided that it is time to allow some air to possibly help to adjust my feeling. I realize the mistakes that were made on my end and there is nothing that I can do to fix it. I cannot take back what happened, can’t rewrite the past. All I can do is move on before things become sour. Or, I am afraid, more sour than they already are. Now that I am giving air, I am striving to start out on a strong note. I am pushing myself to the limit to see what I can handle. I am learning fast.
But I don’t want to stop.
I am getting older and I know, even for a pro- dancer, 33 it is taxing on your body. But with my condition, this has put A LOT on me. But I want to prove to myself I can do it. I won’t have a show like this to do again for a LONG time. This might be my last one. And that’s okay with me. I consider myself super lucky that I can act and sing as well. And I can still hold my own in ANY small dance ensemble. I just can’t walk away.
I went to the ER the other night. I realize how incredibly dramatic that sounds. Like doing this show has already put me in the ER. But lets be honest, it’s me. I had called the cancer center earlier and asked for a transfusion earlier that day so the fact that we ended up in the ER, not a big surprise! I had this AMAZING night nurse, Henry, who hung out with me as much as he could. He keep asking me questions about my condition and what my life was like. All I could say was that I didn’t just wait for condition to stop me. That if it meant being in the ER sometimes then, I would be in the ER sometimes. I wasn’t going to stop living my life. Yes, it was taxing on my body. Yeah, it might be REALLY bad for me. But so is the chemo they pump into me. And if it’s taxing on my body when I get to go out and dance on stage, go parasailing, hang gliding, play the role of my life, have a baby, go to the beach and breath in salt air, get a tattoo, and do what ever “normal” people do, then so be it. I will take it to get to breathe in and out and live my life. And that’s why I needed air. I was buried so deep I forgot to come up for air.
Henry asked me if I had a blog. I told him I did, but I didn’t write in it much. People started getting offended when they knew I was writing about them, feelings were getting hurt, etc. He told me to write any way. Well his actual words were “Fuck that. Write”. Sometimes it is hard to say what you feel. Sometimes writing is easier. People say it is easy to hide behind a computer, but could you actually say it to my face. No. That’s why it’s here.
I can’t tell you how sorry I am.
I can’t tell you how much you hurt me.
I can’t tell you how much I love you.
I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.
I can’t tell you how scared I am.
I can’t tell you how much I want it.
I can’t tell you how sick I am.
I can’t tell you have effected my life.
So here it is Henry. I have regulated my breathing and now I will try to write as much as I can.