It was stupid. It was so stupid. I knew I was bad at dancing. I knew I wouldn’t be winning any academy awards for anything I did. I knew what we were learning was hard. I knew everyone else was having a hard time figuring it out. So why was I so frustrated? Why did I feel like the worst person in the whole class and that I was failing? It was horrible. Some days, I felt fine.
Some days I danced and failed but I felt fine. But most of the time I didn’t. In the class right after I would have to drink water every second to make sure I didn’t burst out. Just drink more and more water, keep the tears in. At first I was stressed before I even got to dancing. I had all my stuff laid out before then the bell would ring and I would never make it in time.
Stress piled upon the stress of failure caused me to break. I broke again and again. Then, I got a pass. I could be a little late to class. I didn’t have to rush. It helped. There was less stress. I felt better. Slowly as the stress fell and I got to know the people I felt better. I still had bad moments, but I felt better.
Then it changed. No longer was my stressful class before dance, but after. I got to dance all right, had plenty of time. All too soon the class changed. The teacher new. Suddenly, it felt like the start all over. Everything felt unfamiliar and all the dancers better. I felt like I was failing again. This time I had to go to the other class right after. I had to go from one hard class to another. By this time I was better at not crying. I could hold it in.
Usually. Some days I was just too overwhelmed. I would have to debate. Debate with a team that wasn’t listening despite me asking. I couldn’t do it. The crying started again. Logically, nothing should have prompted me to cry, but I did. There were so many other things I could have done. If I had just spoken louder my team would have listened, but I didn’t.
I was so broken from dance earlier all I could do was cry. I just cried and drank my water to try to stop it and calm down. Didn’t work. Too much stress. My teacher noticed. She tried to help. Called me all the funny nicknames she could think of like Fishy , Lil’ Fishy , the Big Fish . It made me laugh. Made me feel happy. Felt a little lighter. But it couldn’t stop the crying all together. I still felt horrible.
Then the debate. I did horrible. I could barely get my points across, I was shyer than I should have been when doing anything. Even after, I felt horrible. All of my water in my water bottle was gone, the debate was over, and I had to move to my next class. My next class was calm, giving me a break from the stress.
The whole thing was stupid. I shouldn’t have been stressed about something so simple as not understanding the dance. It happens to everyone. I shouldn’t have been stressed about getting to my next class, I made it everyday even if I was the last to my table. I shouldn’t have cried because people didn’t listen to me. It happens all the time. I shouldn’t have let it all affect me, but I did.