Pressure

I was transported back into grade school Saturday when some friends came over to play tennis. I began to carry the level of confidence that comes with being one of those pathetic "last ones picked." I will always blame inability to physically perform under pressure for being picked last. (When there's no pressure, I'm often quite impressed with what I'm able to do.) And, despite how much I got yelled at by teachers and classmates when I missed a catch, kick, or throw, I believe the greatest pressure came from within myself.

So, even though there was no "picking" involved in playing doubles, points were. So if my partner maintained a good rally only for me to ruin it, I felt like I was letting the world down. This is not just the common disappointment most feel when they don't perform the way the mind says, but the unproportional kind that further degrades my self-image. Fortunately, this was all in my head, which means it's thoretically in my capacity to do something about it. The other good thing about it is that I'm (mostly) surrounded by people who don't contribute to the pressure, if not help reduce it, which is probably why I was able to see where the pressure comes from.

How I became this way is a whole other story.