Dance Disaster

I've put off writing this for a few days but actually I think I might feel better if I do. 

I've been gearing up for the Nationwide Ballroom and Latin finals at Blackpool this weekend for what feels like months. After the qualifiers in October, which I had been working towards for almost a year previously since I went back to dancing, it was all approaching fast.

Lessons have stepped up to sometimes two a week (one ballroom, one latin) plus two practices on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings. I've been to all of them, even surprising myself, but really it's the only way to be sure you know your routines and to have time to practice with your partner. 

I was looking forward to going, but started to get a bit nervous the closer it got. I was even in two minds, feeling quite unprepared a month ago, and put off even booking a hotel to the surprise of many. 

After confiding in my teacher before a lesson one day, she reassured me I would be fine and reminded me that I love to dance and that's why I'm doing it. I felt better, and after a few more days of deliberating, I finally booked the hotel for three nights, albeit at an eye-watering cost.

The real stumbling block for me was getting up there! Now I've done this comp a fair few times, as well as the one at the end of the year, but I've always managed to get a ride with a friend as long-haul motorway driving really isn't my thing.

With no lift offers forthcoming, I knew I would need to take the train, and began to psych myself up for it (which sounds a bit silly, but it was something I was worried about). 

Then at practice, a dancing friend of mine, B, also a nervous driver, said he was going on the train, and suggested we go together. I was all for it, as it alleviated some of the hesitation, knowing I wouldn't have to do it alone.

I should have suspected all was not well when B didn't attend the final school practice due to a cold, but I didn't give it a second thought. He had been looking up train times etc and we'd come up with a plan of when we would leave.

If anything I always thought it might be me that bottled it in the end, not him. 

Anyways, I had to work Friday, and began to feel more uneasy about going. I don't know if it's the place (draw your own conclusions) or the general going away, but I felt quite stressed about it. It stopped me from enjoying the last day at school, but by lunchtime I had psyched myself up to go. After all, I was packed, tanned and committed really anyways.

Just as school let out, B texted to say that he was in two minds whether to go or not, and he might come up on the train tomorrow. I was immediately flooded with relief that I wasn't going, but also disappointed as I did want to dance. I thought about asking a friend for a ride, but most people take the day off anyways and go up early, so it was unlikely anyone would be available. 

I came home, relaxed, played with Lucy and basically talked myself out of it. That's the thing with anxiety, when you no longer have to face what scares you, you feel heaps better! 

The next day I didn't feel quite as good. I had to let my teacher know, and sent her a nice message explaining. She said she was gutted for me but that B had indeed taken the train early that morning and somehow made it in time for his own comp!

By that time I was furious! At having been messed around and that it had cost me my dancing (not to mention the non-refundable hotel stay). Plus it looks bad to pull out on the day. 

But I know deep down that it wasn't B's fault. It meant that because I had someone to go with, I didn't have to pay so much attention to getting there, whereas if I had planned to go alone, I would have been more 'ready' I suppose. I'm not sure why a three hour train journey in one's own country was so unnerving, particularly as I flew to the states for 11 hours by myself on a whim with little hesitation but ours is not to reason why! 

I've predictably spent the weekend beating myself up about it, and looking at all the pictures from everybody else's status updates just to twist the knife a bit more!

Even I can't believe I pulled out, but I realised my anxiety is reaching a point where it is stopping me from doing the things I want to do, or have done before. 

So I'm not sure where to go with it. 

Anxiety and how it makes me feel can just fuck off quite honestly.

Meanwhile, I shall try again for next year ;-)