Jenny Babble

I’m back home, and have been for just over a week now.  Unfortunately, I haven’t accomplished anything and have to get over that fact and get my butt moving.  Short of getting over my anxieties, there’s not much I could have done differently.  I started the week with good intentions – I practiced like crazy to get my third and fourth movements ready for masterclass, unfortunately, I should have spent more time on the first movement.  Near the end of the first movement, I had a memory lapse.  A *major* memory lapse.  I couldn’t find my way and eventually stopped.  Instead of continuing, my teacher decided to press me on that movement.  And press, and press, and PRESS!  I have worked so hard to change the way I’m playing the Bach to be more in the manner she’s looking for, but apparently I haven’t done that.  She asked about the first chord.  The first chord, which I stopped rolling and played broken two by two, which is how I thought she had demonstrated it for me.  She asked me the same question as the only other time I’d played it for her:  “Where does the pulse begin?”  I answered with the same thing I said last time, that it began on the upper note.  She said that’s not how it sounded, and to try it again.  So I tried again, and again, and again, again, again.  So she demonstrated for me, and foolishly, I asked “ok, so I do I play it like that and show where the pulse begins while bringing out the bass?”  Apparently, not the right thing to ask.

In front of the whole studio, she started asking me why she was teaching me if I was resisting her suggestions, raising her voice at me, etc.  This went on for what seemed like a good 20 minutes, though realistically was only 5 or so.  I started crying IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS, and finally when she excused the class I excused myself to the washroom, but of course the quick breathing started.  I was starting to have an anxiety attack.  I went back to the masterclass room, and while fumbling around with my ativan pills to help calm the attack, she continued talking to me in front of a few people still left in the room.  Sweet.  Bringing attention to the fact that I need medication to deal with a situation I would rather be able to handle on my own.  Sweet.  I had a lesson a couple of hours later that I cried through.  Again, sweet.  Playing and trying to focus and listen with tears coming down my face.  Sah-weet.

She just doesn’t understand what that does to me.  Even knowing what I’ve been going through over the past year.  The ativan itself knocks me out for the day – after my lesson I fell asleep on the bus ride home, and them slept on the couch the rest of the day.  And the anxiety attack…  It wears me out so much to have an episode, I was falling asleep in class the next morning and ended up going home early to sleep.  Thank goodness I’m feeling emotionally better now!

After that, I came down with a flu that knocked me right out.  I slept almost all day and night from Saturday until today, and am finally feeling better.  I have to use a puffer for my cough, but at least I survived and will be back at school tomorrow!  So now I must get over this “write-off week” and get my butt into triple gear to catch up.  My recital is coming up in a few weeks…  And I have a gazillion notes to learn and perfect!!!  Here’s hoping for a better week to come!