I didn’t want to go to ballet today.

And I mean, I really didn’t want to go.

For the first time since committing to this dream of mine, I hit the snooze button three times before dragging myself out of bed. It was a struggle to make myself put on my leotard and tights, and style my hair into a ballet bun. I had to force myself out the door, to walk to the studio.

A part of me wishes I had just stayed in bed.

Class was awful, for the most part. Barre was a huge struggle, though breathing-wise I got through it just fine (perhaps thanks to taking two puffs of my inhaler before class.) My body just did not want to cooperate today.

Center wasn’t much better, although I did manage one perfect triple pirouette, and a double-plié-double pirouette that maybe sort of kind of counts as a quadruple? It’s getting there. Both were on my left, of course – I’m still stuck at doubles on my right.

But talk about putting blood, sweat, and tears into this dream.

Sweat… yeah, that’s normal. I always sweat gallons during class. Just goes to show how hard I work (or at least, that’s what I like to think).

Blood… it’s silly, really. I wasn’t even wearing pointe shoes, or doing anything that hardcore. But somehow I managed to draw some blood on my left anklebone, after clumsily hitting it with my other foot.

Tears… oh yes, there were tears today. I had to leave class before jumps… which sucked. Remember the numbness I was talking about yesterday? Well, it hasn’t gone away. In fact, it’s gotten worse. Now, randomly, my leg will go numb for a few seconds or minutes, before returning to normal. Which is frustrating as hell. And considering how unpredictable it is, and given that I have no clue what’s causing it… I wasn’t about to risk landing on a numb leg and seriously injuring myself in the middle of grande allegro.

So yes, I’ll admit it. I was in tears when I got home after class. I was disappointed in myself, angry with my body, scared because I don’t know what the heck is going on with my legs… no, definitely not a very good day.

But even so, a part of me is glad I went to class. After all, that’s the whole point – if I want to make it in the world of dance, I can’t just take the good days and leave the bad. I have to fight through off days, deal with body issues, and push myself to keep going even when I really, really just want to give up and stay in bed.

As much as I just want to cry and say screw this, it isn’t worth it sometimes… I can’t. I want this too badly. No more excuses, no more letting minor setbacks hold me back. This time I have to go for it, no matter what happens…