Good morning, Readers!
Found this beauty on wallpaperplay.com.
So... I am a terrible, horrible thief.
You see, last Thursday during training, I nabbed a mat. Which was good, good because we were supposed to acquire a mat. You need them it you're going to be throwing folks around. This mat, however, was already in use. Which is bad, because, what the hell, Sonia, someone was using that!
This is going to sound totally weird... or maybe not, for those who know me better than I know myself... but I honestly didn't clue in at all. Only when it was pointed out and I was halfway across the gym with the pilfered item, did it clue in for me. I committed to the bit at that point, trying to make it into a really bad joke.
Ugh.
I honestly don't understand what my brain was doing. At the time it didn't clue in. But in retrospect, yeah... duh. That mat wasn't for the taking. What the hell, Sonia? I mean, I had to literally detach it from another mat that was also in use.
Now, part of what had my brain so shut down, I think, had not a little to do with my anxiety, which was spiking at the time. You see, there's this guy at training. He's an instructor, who comes in on occasion. He's very knowledgeable, and a good fighter. We all could learn a lot from him. But I guess he just doesn't like me. In all my dealing with him during training, it's been snide remarks or visible eye-rolling when I'm struggling to understand or implement a concept he's trying to teach.
My favourite incident was not mat-stealing-Thursday, but the last time he was in when he stated out of the blue to my training partner, "Sorry, but Sonia just really annoys me sometimes." My crime was... I don't know. I was just doing the drill to the best of my ability (which, I mean, given how he often teaches concepts that are just so counter to the way my body naturally wants to move or even the other things I've learnt under other trainers that I've been drilling for forever, probably wasn't much at all). That's all I was doing. He just walked up to us as I was training and spoke those words.
Honestly, it hurt at the time as I hadn't been doing anything but the drill, but I just shrugged and said, "It's true." Because it was. Every interaction before that point had made that plainly, painfully clear. And, to be perfectly honest, after years of that nonsense, the feeling is entirely mutual.
Thursday was just the eye rolling. It's not the worst interaction I've had with this guy. That didn't matter, though. The minute I saw him, my anxiety shot up.
Every time I see him enter the room, knowing that I'm going to have to train under him, I get really, really, really tense. My anxiety spikes. Every. Single. Time.
When I finish a training day where he is present, even if he wasn't teaching, I usually need a good decompression cry.
I count my lucky stars that he doesn't come around all that often, and that all the other instructors are genuinely wonderful, patient folks who put up with me so well. If they don't like me, they hide it very well.
So maybe I lost all situational awareness because my anxiety was screaming.
Or maybe I'm grasping at straws to try and explain my own behaviour which even I don't understand. It was a thoughtless, ignorant, and, frankly, bitchy thing to do. Stealing a mat.
It's one of those things that I spent three days straight beating myself up about, and no doubt it'll be one of those memories that will pop up on occasion. When I'm out having a good time with friends, my brain will just send me that little bite.
Hey, you remember when you literally stole a mat at training, not cluing in that it was in use and not for the taking, even though literally EVERYTHING about that situation made it obvious? Remember that? What the fuck, Sonia?
And then my night will be ruined.
Then I might giggle about how literally no one stopped me, 'cause that was also weird.
You see, last Thursday during training, I nabbed a mat. Which was good, good because we were supposed to acquire a mat. You need them it you're going to be throwing folks around. This mat, however, was already in use. Which is bad, because, what the hell, Sonia, someone was using that!
This is going to sound totally weird... or maybe not, for those who know me better than I know myself... but I honestly didn't clue in at all. Only when it was pointed out and I was halfway across the gym with the pilfered item, did it clue in for me. I committed to the bit at that point, trying to make it into a really bad joke.
Ugh.
I honestly don't understand what my brain was doing. At the time it didn't clue in. But in retrospect, yeah... duh. That mat wasn't for the taking. What the hell, Sonia? I mean, I had to literally detach it from another mat that was also in use.
Now, part of what had my brain so shut down, I think, had not a little to do with my anxiety, which was spiking at the time. You see, there's this guy at training. He's an instructor, who comes in on occasion. He's very knowledgeable, and a good fighter. We all could learn a lot from him. But I guess he just doesn't like me. In all my dealing with him during training, it's been snide remarks or visible eye-rolling when I'm struggling to understand or implement a concept he's trying to teach.
My favourite incident was not mat-stealing-Thursday, but the last time he was in when he stated out of the blue to my training partner, "Sorry, but Sonia just really annoys me sometimes." My crime was... I don't know. I was just doing the drill to the best of my ability (which, I mean, given how he often teaches concepts that are just so counter to the way my body naturally wants to move or even the other things I've learnt under other trainers that I've been drilling for forever, probably wasn't much at all). That's all I was doing. He just walked up to us as I was training and spoke those words.
Honestly, it hurt at the time as I hadn't been doing anything but the drill, but I just shrugged and said, "It's true." Because it was. Every interaction before that point had made that plainly, painfully clear. And, to be perfectly honest, after years of that nonsense, the feeling is entirely mutual.
Thursday was just the eye rolling. It's not the worst interaction I've had with this guy. That didn't matter, though. The minute I saw him, my anxiety shot up.
Every time I see him enter the room, knowing that I'm going to have to train under him, I get really, really, really tense. My anxiety spikes. Every. Single. Time.
When I finish a training day where he is present, even if he wasn't teaching, I usually need a good decompression cry.
I count my lucky stars that he doesn't come around all that often, and that all the other instructors are genuinely wonderful, patient folks who put up with me so well. If they don't like me, they hide it very well.
So maybe I lost all situational awareness because my anxiety was screaming.
Or maybe I'm grasping at straws to try and explain my own behaviour which even I don't understand. It was a thoughtless, ignorant, and, frankly, bitchy thing to do. Stealing a mat.
It's one of those things that I spent three days straight beating myself up about, and no doubt it'll be one of those memories that will pop up on occasion. When I'm out having a good time with friends, my brain will just send me that little bite.
Hey, you remember when you literally stole a mat at training, not cluing in that it was in use and not for the taking, even though literally EVERYTHING about that situation made it obvious? Remember that? What the fuck, Sonia?
And then my night will be ruined.
Then I might giggle about how literally no one stopped me, 'cause that was also weird.
Right, I have to go write stuff now.
Ciao!
Ciao!
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