3/20/15     9:55pm

So… this is life.

It’s 9:55pm. I’m sitting on the tile floor of a hotel next to an ATM. The world around me seems surreal. I did Scotty’s dance, taped Missi’s. People greet me and ask how I am. Some of them ask with a knowledge from Facebook of the hospital. Some have no idea. To those whose eyes say they know, I am trying to be honest. A new thing for me. My doctor warned me I would overheat on seroquel and geodon. She failed to tell me what to do not to. One intermediate Scotty workshop brought my blood boiling to a point it shouldn’t reach until well into a Saturday night dance or several advanced routines in a row outside on a hot summer black asphalt day. I must brainstorm for tomorrow. But I’m tired.

(breathe)
There’s cold air blowing on me.
I really love to dance.

I’m not sure why I feel sad here. I don’t feel connected. I don’t feel alive. I guess I don’t feel ready. Will I ever? I want to dance again but I don’t have faith in me. I need help to believe. I don’t even know what a healthy person’s life looks like. What am I s’posed to want? And for whom?

(deep breath)
STOP (DBT skill) Now what did that stand for? (practice skill) Well, now I feel sadder.

Check the facts:

• I’m at Possum Trot.
• I’m sitting alone in a noisy lobby.
• I feel sad and scared.
• I am also excited to be here.
• I feel free on the dance floor.
• My face and neck are twitchy.
• I stayed awake today.
• I got to hug and laugh with Scotty.
• I am able to dance w/o pain.
• Mom is here.
• I am scared for it to be over.
• I really want to dance and feel loved.
• I am fragile.
• I am safe.

I’d like to watch Peg + Cat now.
My head hurts.

I want to feel safe.
Will I ever be a dancer again?
I need to go to sleep.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2015