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I don't plan to harp on this too much more, don't worry. I've just got some feelings to go along with all the physical crap that's going on right now. I don't wanna make anyone feel bad about their efforts to cheer me up or offer me comfort, so please don't apologize or backtrack or expound or whatever. I just need to explain something.
Suggesting that I practice or use everything but a specific movement in my dance vocabulary is like telling a vocalist that she should use everything but a certain note on the scale while singing songs, and then expect her to go into a performance feeling confident and competent. It doesn't work that way.
And it's not just bellydance I'm talking about here. This means I can't dance-dance for at least two weeks. I cannot dance, people. Period. For at least two weeks. I've mentioned before that one of my sources of interior happiness is just dancing around the living room, alone, blissing out and feeling good. Right? Yeah, I can't do that now.
This goes beyond any physical conditioning issues or performance anxieties. This hits me in my heart. I know, I know, it's a small target. But it's still there, and it aches, and one of my strategies for dealing with emotional hurt is flat out not available to me.
I am so. fucking. tired. of feeling betrayed by my body. So very, very tired.
Comments are closed for a reason. There's nothing you can say to help, here. Really. Unless you're offering to bring over some wine or something, in which case you can email or message me.
Suggesting that I practice or use everything but a specific movement in my dance vocabulary is like telling a vocalist that she should use everything but a certain note on the scale while singing songs, and then expect her to go into a performance feeling confident and competent. It doesn't work that way.
And it's not just bellydance I'm talking about here. This means I can't dance-dance for at least two weeks. I cannot dance, people. Period. For at least two weeks. I've mentioned before that one of my sources of interior happiness is just dancing around the living room, alone, blissing out and feeling good. Right? Yeah, I can't do that now.
This goes beyond any physical conditioning issues or performance anxieties. This hits me in my heart. I know, I know, it's a small target. But it's still there, and it aches, and one of my strategies for dealing with emotional hurt is flat out not available to me.
I am so. fucking. tired. of feeling betrayed by my body. So very, very tired.
Comments are closed for a reason. There's nothing you can say to help, here. Really. Unless you're offering to bring over some wine or something, in which case you can email or message me.