There's no crying in baseball

Today was monumental. I had my first breakdown at the new gym. 

There are a couple variations on a breakdown that I can produce during a sparring session. 

1. The "F.U.C.K why isn't this working?" breakdown - Usually brought on by feeling that I'm not getting it right - the trainer's telling me to correct something and I'm not doing it. Or I get that one thing right and then screw up something else. It's capped off with a massive punch that I should have avoided. And what typically happens is that tears well up in my eyes and I try to play it off, just a bit, and then am able to work through it ok. 

2. The "OMFG I'm completely worthless" breakdown - Definitely more serious. This one's all about what's going on outside the gym. I'm either not getting enough sleep, having a tough time at work, whatever. It culminates into a sparring session where (see #1) the massive punch occurs. Actually, usually it's a series of those that start to break me. But the after effect is uncontrollable tears. Uncontrollable, I tell you. Like I've gone on a run through the streets of NY crying after to try to get it all out. Or I stay in the gym and just continue to cry through the entire workout. 

Neither of these are particularly pleasant, as they both evoke feelings of insecurity. However, it also feels good to be human and get it out. Today was a #1 breakdown.

It's important to note that the sparring breakdown is never about being hurt. I mean, I can't close my jaw properly right now, but that's not the issue. The issue is that I couldn't do what I needed to do. Kills me. Absolutely kills me. Worse than any physical pain.

Julie and I were talking after, and she mentioned that one of the things about boxing is that it attracts perfectionists. Exactly, it does. There's the obsession with control over the movements and fight. The desire to get it completely right every time. The total frustration at the first sign of failure. It's a hot mess.