Therapist

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After what happened the following weekend, I did not want to go to dance. I wanted to stay true to my word. Dancing was too much.

I was 3 and better than a lot of dancers. I could do a lot for my age.

That's what really made Abby mad. She thought I could do everything and keep up with Maddie. I was 3 and a lot of pressure was on my shoulders 24/7.

It was starting to make my mental health skyrocket. My mental health was never great. I grew up in the dance studio. Since I was a newborn, I have been at the ALDC. So, once I was old enough to bend my legs and wiggle my arms, I have been down in studio A.

Life beyond the walls of dance was absolutely amazing. I loved having the freedom of hanging out with my friends and going to school.

I have been having panic attacks quite frequently and throwing up was a big side effect. Every time I had a panic attack I would throw up before and after and sometimes throughout the day. They made my stomach churn.

I could never help it. Mom told me to hum my favorite songs or take deep shallow breaths because that calms your stomach, but it never worked. My panic attacks were to violent and frequent.

So finally, today I am going to the mental health specialist. Or as mom calls her a therapist. I got changed into my street clothes and brushed my teeth and hair.

 I got changed into my street clothes and brushed my teeth and hair

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I grabbed a pop-it of the shelf and grabbed my iPad. I got in the car and mom started the engine. I popped the bubbles and breathed in and out.

Mom turned up the music I'd assume trying to clear the awkwardness from the atmosphere. We pulled up to this brick building and I unbuckled my car seat. I hopped out with my light purple pop it and skipped slightly into the building.

My mom checked me in, and I sat down in the (uncomfortable) chair next to the door. I fidgeted with my fingers and poked at the pop it.

I breathed in and out and watched the very boring cooking show on the T.V and after what felt like years the therapist said my name.

" Kayla hyland" she said in a very sweet and kind welcoming voice.

I smiled at her in return, and she put me on a scale.

"Step up here and stand up straight"

I obeyed her instructions, and she took my weight. I weighed 18.5.

She stares at me questionably and I shrugged my shoulders and turned around. She measured me and I was 3,6.

She led me to her office which was decorated with rainbows and other cute stuff.

"Mom can you please step out of the room. The session should be over in a half an hour".

She stepped outside the door and the session began.

"Hello, my name is Mrs. grey, and I am your therapist. You can schedule an appointment with me when you need a hand to hold or need help with any mental health issues. I am your safe place where you can come and talk to me, and you can open up to me. I hope that once we get to know each other you can trust me as a friend. You are so young, and I hope that look up to me as a person you can talk to. I am excited to get to know you better Kayla and I hope that we can become friends. So, let's get started and you can tell me some stuff about you" she said in a kind voice.

"My name is Kayla, and I am 3 years old. I have been dancing since I was 1 and I have been in the dance studio since day one. Dancing is my life and I really hope that this session helps me stand up for what's right in the dancing world" I say

"Wow ok so you are here today because of dance" she says, and I nod

"Ok so I have heard from other students that dance is very manipulative. So, you really need to stand up for yourself int he tough times you face in the dancing world. Your mom told me that you suffer from extreme anxiety attacks. What I need you to do is for one schedule an appointment whenever you need to talk to somebody. I know it is hard to express your feelings to mom or dad, but you have to in tough times like these. I am going to talk to your mom, but you will have to pop 1 pill each night for your panic attacks. Also take one an hour before compition so you don't completely freakout"

I nod my head and I tell her "Dancing is my life and I love to dance but it's the teacher. She screams and yells and also the fact about being on reality TV every movement I make doesn't help".

"TV is a scary thing to be on. People judge you every step. It is scary but you are Kayla Hyland your own beautiful person. If you ever need to take a break from dance, we can write a note to your teacher and tell her about maybe taking the steps to a mental health break. It would only last 2-3 days or say. It would be to help you gather your thoughts and mentally prepare yourself for the challenges you may face in the dancing world".

I nod reluctantly as she hands me some printed out forms that she wrote about today's session, and she unlocked the door for me.

I walked out and saw mom smiling as the doctor whispered to mom in a hushed voice probably about medication but who knows.

I skipped to the car and mom asked me bunches of questions about the session. I answered them all in complete honesty and she nodded and told me this medicine would help. I believed her.... somewhat.

I walked into the house and saw Paige and Brooke in their dancewear. They smiled at me, and I smiled back rushing to my room to grab a leotard with some tights and my dance bag.

I put my hair in a ponytail and walked to the door where mom handed me an apple and I bit into the juicy snack.

Mom handed me my pill and I sipped some water and swallowed it. It had a really odd aftertaste.

I walked to the black SUV and hopped in still playing with my pop-it. The medicine was starting to kick in. I could feel my breathing calming and my heart beating a bit slower.

We drove to the place I have a love hate relationship with.

THE ALDC

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