As I stood there, I felt the anxiety rush through me, hitting me in waves until they reached my fingertips. I stared at myself in the mirror every few seconds, and then I proceeded to pace back and forth through the pungent odor of a public school restroom. Index cards in my hand, worn out and crumpled. I kept shuffling, looking through each and every letter of each and every word. I kept saying to myself: "This is all a sequence; it is easy; it is memorization; that's all it is. I got this." With every repeat of my fabricated internal pep talk, the anxiety would form again, and hit like a tidal wave. My mind was the brick wall outside that very school where the kids would play handball; I would throw the words with all my might but they never stuck. I would try again and again but they would bounce off; and the force of those words would instantly convert into anxiety. The pacing became faster and the reading became more abrupt. I heard the door open, and within an instant, I had to apply the brakes. The anxiety bundled up and created pressure like a shaken bottle of soda, and there was nothing I could have done, so I made my way back toward the classroom. As I entered, the stares of the other students proved to be cold and pressuring. The anxiety no longer surged, for it flowed like a waterfall, and the sheer strength of that almost overpowered the muscular system that held me up.
During academic competitions, I began to display an aggressive attitude. I always wanted to be the one that would be in first place, and would often become very upset with myself if I did not obtain this goal. I would have a full-fledged Trevor Mohr Breakdown. This mindset started very early. For example when I was in third grade, we had a grade-wide spelling competition. For me, this was a big deal. I viewed it as being one of the most important parts of my academic life. Looking back, it seems ridiculous to put so much emphasis on this competition. I made it to the final round, and I was feeling incredibly proud of myself. Unfortunately, I was faced with a word I did not know and got it wrong. I became disgusted with myself. The thought of having to accept my failure was devastating. Unfortunately this plagued me for years.
In time I realize that failure isn't the end of everything. I began to think deeply about the true meaning of failure, and eventually, my perspective changed for the greater. When the exams were handed back, I already put myself in the mindset that I did not receive the highest grade. I accepted what I received, and I worked harder to improve. I began to feel good about myself in a different way, because I would see my own personal improvements. By reaching out to my teachers and staying for extra help my grades improved and my GPA is on the rise. I realized fear was holding me back and working to my potential. Pessimism manifests itself in one who is afraid of failure, and it acts as a protective mechanism to remove any risk of failure. This is dangerous because it actually holds you back from doing things that will help you. This awareness was liberating.
Pacing back and forth, reciting fabricated pep talks, and breathing in the pungent odor of school restrooms are a faint memory. Though the fear of failure still exists, I have learned to work with it. I'm not perfect but I am improving. Trevor Mohr Breakdowns are a thing of the past. Nowadays I count the Trevor Mohr Successes. Though lessons were learned later in my academic career, they remain lifelong.
