It’s been a month…

4 weeks since i’ve been out of action.

If i knew things were going to turn out this way, i’d actually embrace trainings and the team like it was my last. But i was probably too clouded at that point of time to even have some insight into things.

Today’s Wednesday. And for the past 7 months, i’ve dedicated all my Wednesdays to trainings. Save for the rare times when we had off. Wednesday afternoons were the times that i was challenged. Every training was a brand new challenge. And no matter how demoralised or upset i was, i looked forward to training. Because it was enriching, and because we were building bonds among each other.

Wednesday afternoons were never meant for idling. And my Wednesday afternoons will never be the same again. No more of my polo-shirts and dance pants, with my hair callously clipped up and nursing watch pinned on my shirt. None of that team spirit anymore. It’s so regrettable that i didn’t stay long enough for our very own shirt to be produced- we spoke of it way back, and it has never happened. I wish there was something tangible for me to hold onto.

I reflected on my performance throughout, and it was with horror that i realised how much i regressed, and how evident it was that i was crumbling and falling apart. I cannot even imagine how it must’ve been to be watching at the side- the sight of the failing facade. From appearing and sounding confident, absorbing all the feedback like a sponge and eagerly trying to improve on my performance, to losing confidence, being so hesitant and doubtful, bashing myself up for all the mistakes and being unable to move forward. All the anger, tears, self-doubt and pain that stemmed from something that i held so dearly to my heart. I really don’t know how everything morphed into something so bad…

I have a feeling, and it is really just an assumption. That there must be some sadness and anger, even if it’s a little. That i gave up fighting. Initially i questioned hurtfully why nobody was fighting for me to stay. I did find out about how most(i say it’s most and not all) of the team fought for me to stay. Coming to know of that broke my heart and it made me want to fight even harder. But the truth is, i gave up in the end. I gave up despite efforts made to keep me, and my team mates’ want for me to stay. I gave up because i knew i couldn’t keep promises. I knew couldn’t deliver. I knew it was very hard to return to where i was and then build upon it and improve even further. Most of all, i knew i was going to have to try so hard all over again- putting up a strong front, taking so many steps back to accomodate, pretending everything’s fine, trying to make the partnership a better one but having to fail every single time- and make myself so miserable once more. I know everyone has their own baggage, and i have mine too. It so happens that my coping mechanisms were complicated by some long-standing issues, and they were by itself very ineffective. I don’t have enough time to make things happen again. I can fight, and i can keep fighting. But you know what doesn’t make you, will break you. I don’t know if it was wiser for me to have left, because for sure i’m not having an easy time coming to terms with it. It’s been really tough, and it hurts. But maybe this beats having to stay. Nobody knows for sure actually.

118 days left to the competition. I am missing the team every single day. It tears me apart not having to go for trainings again, but in my heart, it’ll always be the 8 of us- 6 of us and the 2 of them. The team will always have my utmost support no matter what, and i’d really like to see who is replacing me. I’ll visit one day for sure. To relive the memories again, and see the whole team together again.

Thanks for the memories again, guys. I heart you guys. 🙂

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