I usually do become nervous before classes. But tonight it is compounded by the hateful email, the unpleasant reactions on another site about the race play interviews, my own delicately-balanced self-esteem, and feeling more than a little lonely.
It isn’t ever easy to present, and with the gnawing realization that *gasp* someone out there wishes me ill, it becomes tough. Those of you who are “sensitives” might get me on this. Not to go too woo-woo, but fuckit.
There is no demo for the classÂ tonight.Â Oh, don’t get me wrong. I angled for one. But got a casual blow-off on it from the person I approached. The vanishingly small group of others with whom I might have done the class were each less than optimal for other reasons.Â Corralling my need and approach for aftercare in these situations is a dance I know well. And for many reasons, I really only would have been OK with this one individual helping with the class. But they weren’t interested.
Technically, that is OK. But did it tap my fear of being fucked up? Yeah, it sure did.
I am advised that I am a good presenter regardless ifÂ IÂ haveÂ song-and-danceÂ showtime in the class.
But regardless of that, I can say I am honestly gladÂ I don’t have this class scheduled for a long while.
Because it is a certainty that, at the end of tonight,Â I will crawl into bed with my stuffed elephant and cry.