“I can’t play anymore. I’m sorry” I said faintly to the crowded room; evading their concerned and bemused gazes. I quickly grabbed my music and darted to my seat amidst the applause and commentry from the chairman.
How did I get to this point?
The nervousness began to develop earlier this week when I was reminded that I have piano group on Sunday. Practice had been slacking due to being occupied with being ill and more recently – changing of a new job. I knew it was impossible to complete the music however I’d completed the first section in the sonata and I was resolved to give it my best when the day arrived.
I spent much of this morning resting and procastinating. I needed the time to recooperate after my long week at the new job and as I’ve not been getting adequate amounts of sleep. I believe I’ve maxed 5.5 hrs.
Once I’d gotten ready, I looked around for my sheet music. I searched every nook and cranny of my bedroom and the communal areas but came up wirh nothing. I began to panic, wondering if I should withdraw my RSVP.
Coming up with nothing, I forced myself to destress and decided that the best thing to do was to grab one of the pieces I was vaguely familiar with. I opted for Chopin’s Nocturne in C# minor as I’d learnt it previously. While I certainly couldn’t play through it perfectly as I once could, I hoped semi-reading the sheets and my kinesthetic memory would be sufficient to give an adequate performance.
To my chagrin, the performance anxiety poked holes in the iron wall of concentration I tried to maintain leading to the outburst described in the opening words of this post.