Dance for the Sake of Dancing

I'm working on a story right now.  It isn't anything big and it isn't a piece I will try to have published, but I'm very motivated by it because it is a story of a difficult time in my life and it is the first I have written about it.  For the period if its duration I hardly wrote at all, which is quite odd being as I have written (as in creative writing done for pleasure not school) daily since the second grade.  Being as I think it pertains, I am going to insert an excerpt from that story here:

"There was a time, quite a long time, when sleep was the best part of my life. I was incurably unhappy and it offered an escape; a few hours each day when I could just let go of everything and be free. I could melt away into the darkness and just be. And in those hours- it didn't hurt.

            That was before I got bad.

When I got bad, I lost the ability to sleep. I would have moments of darkness midst a night spent wrestling with my problems in bed. I’d watch the clock flicker to 7:00 am and then sit up in bed, feeling the immense weight on my shoulders, as I tried carrying on as though nothing was out of the norm. Whatever that meant.

            The combination of sleep deprivation and my already unstable mental health lead me to take up a permanent residence on “the edge.”

I lived my life with a lump in my throat. I knew how fragile I was – how thin the strings were that held me together – and constantly feared something deviating from the plan. Because any time it did, my throat would swell up just a millimeter further and the tears would begin.

            Then my breathing would get ragged. And as I struggled to get air, I would feel my face go numb.

And at that point there was no recovering.

            I would end up curled up, my hands hugging my knees to my chest, on the floor as I felt my body shake violently. I sobbed uncontrollably during these moments. Even when my mind said, “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s okay” my body continued to be broken down.

            Sometime between 30 minutes and an hour later I would be done. Still on the floor, I  would lay prostrate- my breathing shallow and quiet, my eyes swollen and glazed over, all of me thoroughly exhausted. And I would think of nothing except what was in my immediate line of sight, “That door must have 10 layers of paint on it... look at how the paint has pooled around the edges...”

For a long time, I struggled with anxiety and depression. Sometimes I am still hit by a random panic attack and thrown straight back into that place of helplessness and doubt.  That is the worst part of it - the doubt.  When I am in the middle of a panic attack my mind works at about a million miles an hour to explore the worst possible scenarios.  And being as I have zero confidence in those moments, I start to believe it.  But the most bizarre part of it all is that there seems to be a part of my mind that is completely separate and unaffected, and it just sits there watching me freak out saying, "Brooke. This is silly. You have no reason to think that. Just calm down."

I bring this up because over the last year or so I have realized my main problem stems from me being a perfectionist and always having certain marks to measure up to; rather than working for the sake of doing the work, I was working to achieve some new level of "success." And as soon as I reached it I would set my sites on the next level, perpetuating the cycle of dissatisfaction.

But I have recently learned to, as I initially referred to it, "be selfish."  I have learned that happiness occurs when you are doing what you enjoy simply because you enjoy it.  This means when I am out climbing I don't look at the grade of the climb, I just give it my best and have fun exploring the route.  This means if I am writing, I do so because it just feels good to - not to try and get published.  And this means I dance - white girl moves and all - purely for the sake of dancing.

I know I am young.  I know I am still fighting this battle.  But I also know that we are capable of rewiring our brains.  It seems scary and time-consuming and like it may not even work.  I know this.  But I also know it is worth it to invest in yourself by doing what it takes to make the most out of your life. If there is anything I could possibly share with anyone, it is this idea - that we must do what we do for the sake of doing it.

"The trail is the thing. Not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you will miss all that you are travelling for."