Piano was rough today. I've been in this depressive crash for several weeks now (more like several months, but that's another story), and today was one of those days where I'm so overly emotional and sensitive that the most insignificant look or comment can send me into uncontrollable crying fits.
No, it's not PMS. It would be easier if it were PMS. That would mean it would go away in a few days.
So I was at piano and got the first lump-in-the-throat while I was doing the B-flat minor scale. All that practicing I did last week, and ... it's like I forgot my brain at home. Then the Suzuki, then Liszt, my beloved Liszt.
I don't remember what set me off. It was something minor, something that, under normal circumstances, would never have set me off. But I started crying and couldn't stop. And I couldn't shut up. Geez, I just wanted to apply duct tape to my mouth. But all these whiny things kept coming out. It was awful. It went on forever. We finally got through the Liszt, but we never even made it to Bach.
I was just so upset. And it wasn't because of piano, or my playing, or my poor innocent bystander of a piano teacher. It's as if I was on the verge of a breakdown and was just waiting for the first tipping over of the first domino.
So we finished the lesson, finally (sans Bach), and then had dinner and went on a walk, which was good. I didn't break down crying again until I got in the car to come home.
I hate all of this. It's like my entire life shuts down, unannounced. I'm fine and happy and energetic one day, and then I'm suddenly nonfunctional and paralyzed by depression until ... whenever. Sometimes it's just for a day or two, and sometimes, like this time, it's months. And it seems to be getting worse as I grow older.
By the way, I've alluded to but have never actually shared the nitty-gritty details of my condition on this blog. Please don't e-mail me with a bunch of advice unless you know more about me than I've shared here. I'm not saying that to be mean, and it's not that I don't appreciate the concern. It's just that every time I post something like this, I get all these well-meaning e-mails with mostly inapplicable advice. I'm not writing this as a call for advice, or sympathy. I'm just writing it.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled blog-post.
I'm just disappointed that piano wasn't wonderful. I practiced so diligently these past two weeks. I know I must have retained some of the good that came out of those practices, but it was nowhere to be found today.