Sad Dancing With the Stars Diaries is a series in which we imagine the innermost feelings of Dancing With the Stars contestants, as written in their “journals.”

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Heyyyyy.

I guess you’ve heard the news by now—my time on DWTS is over. I’m chill but this was supposed to be my comeback, you know? And it’s just so like, wrong that the producers would ask me to do the show without making sure that I made it to the finals? Anyway, the whole experience was hell and I’ll never appear on another ABC show as long as I live, even though my agent is like, “You can’t make those promises; we’d be lucky for any offer; this was kind of your shot.” Well fuck him and fuck DWTS. I am Marissa Fucking Cooper!!!!

I just want to say that the judges had it out for me from the beginning. Like they were purposefully trying to make me look bad. In my opening package in the season premiere, I said that I was a dancer and had danced all my life, and then Carrie Ann, Len, and that obnoxious little lawsuit Bruno all made sure to say that I wasn’t a “natural dancer” and that this was a hard thing to do. It was so condescending and I don’t deserve that you know?

After my disgraceful cha cha last week, I was just really pissed at Artem, my wet blanket of a partner, and the cameras caught me kind of telling him what was up.

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“I was relying on you to make it a positive experience,” I told him. “I can’t do another week of this.”

Do you know how it feels to dread something, diary? Probably not, because you’ve never been in show business. Let me just say, it’s torture—you can’t eat, you can’t sleep, every one of your fucking costars sends you a text with a reassuring smiley face in it and you know it’s just to psych you out. You are sure there is no way you can continue on.

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But whatever, I did, because I was contractually obligated.

This week was about our most memorable years—I did 2008 because that’s when I quit The OC because it had all started to feel like a big scary machine. But I don’t have to go into that diary, 30 of your sibling diaries are devoted just to that feeling. I actually kept a public journal on People, and I explained this week’s dance there:

This week we are all telling the story of our most memorable years and we are doing a foxtrot to Miley Cyrus’ “Party in the U.S.A.” I chose that song because I wanted to dance to something that was pure fun.

It also is a song that was released during the year I’m featuring: the year The O.C. ended and I moved to Europe.

It’s been really interesting to reflect on that time in my life. That was a transformative time, just like this experience has been.

Ugh, whatever. I’m just pissed because I’m the pretty actress. I was like, the show’s marquee cast member this year and they totally abandoned me with that terrible partner and terrible themed weeks and... Diary, I’ve never been bad at anything before.

Oh, by the way, there have been some reports that I have been a nightmare on set. Some coward (I know who it was) told Radar that I wasn’t “coming off as a nice person.”

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“It is really quite unfortunate because when she first came on the show, members of the cast and crew said they were hoping that she was going to be the person that they used to love watching on TV. They were actually really excited to meet her,” they said. “Some people are claiming that Mischa is the most self-entitled and rude celebrity that the employees of the show have ever had to work with! She does not discriminate who she is rude to either.”

Uhhhhhhhh okay craft services guy. Good luck with the $100 you got reporting that juicy piece of gossip; your life is pathetic and meaningless.

I would say this experience was worthless, except I got a Vanity Fair interview out of it, which I am thankful for. Moving forward, I’ll just have to stay true to myself. As my Instagram profile says, I’m a lover of music. art. dance. fashion. animals. and that’s never going to change, no matter what.

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Love,

Misch


Image via ABC