metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tennis and Insecurity Today I worked non-stop. I'm tired but have signed up for a tennis class, which starts at 6:30 pm. It is only four classes and I have already gone to the first one so only three more to go and yet ... and yet. I don't want to go. I know I won't do well and it is frustrating. It's only an hour, and something about it is fun, but in other ways I am so ... dreading it. Why am I like that? Why do other people look forward to that stuff and I just dread and dread it? When I go, I know I will be alright. I know I may even have fun. But I still dread it. Or just ... don't look forward to it and have to resist just blowing it off. Just another wonderful part of me, I guess. I haven't written in awhile. That is like my little litany. I say it every once in awhile. And still I do not write. What am I afraid of? What about that do I dread? That I am no good at that either. That I am not as smart as I like to think I am. That people look to me for advice and will somehow find me trembling in the corner. Which I do, anyway, but they just don't see it. They don't see how insecure and awkward I am. How uncomfortable I am in social situations. They see a confident person and pleasant to be around. Someone who has it "all together". How can they not see me all balled up and blathering? I don't get it. Like when I speak in front of a group of people and I feel my face getting red as a beet and my heart pounding and my stomach churning and my voice quivering and I get through it somehow, then someone comes up to me and says, "Great presentation. You really are good at it!" What? Wha? I just don't get it. I don't get it at all. 6:06 p.m. - 2010-10-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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