I may have mentioned once or twice that I LOVE MY TAP CLASS. I am taking a beginning adult tap class every Wednesday. My sense of rhythm is good. My endurance is even kind of okay. But I cannot become airborn. When we are supposed to "leap" my body simply refuses to defy gravity. If I cheat and use my arms to kind of swing around and propel me in an upwardly direction I might get an inch off the ground. This does NOT count as a leap. One problem is that I have never had any kind of vertical. Which made my brief stint on a basketball team rather ridiculous. And it meant that I was never a cotender to play goalie on the soccer team. The other problem is that I am "well endowed." Rubenesque. Curvaceous. Busty. Full figured. Too many people on the front porch... So even if I were technically able to acheive liftoff, I risk putting out an eye or bruising my ribs without the Proper Foundational Garment. Ugh. These things have become routine:
I feel pretty good about this. In general I think that the means I am using to keep my bipolar in check are working quite well. I am getting less afraid that I will tip off one end of the tightrope or the other. I find this somewhat funny following almost immediately on the heels of despairing utterly about my abilities as a parent. But that was really just the panic of a moment. And everyone gets to have those. Even people with mood disorders are allowed to have moods. These are the things i wish were routine:
Grateful Crap: Feeling mostly pretty much okay Equatorial Actions: tap dance meds in the morning and at night yellow glasses time with family Comments are closed.
|
Archives
May 2020
Categories
All
K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |