By Cliff Richey, Hilaire Richey Kallendorf PhD, Jimmy Connors
Chronicling the tumultuous lifetime of the original bad boy of tennis, this enticing memoir describes one man’s public conflict with scientific melancholy. Cliff Richey was once top identified for the 1970 season within which he gained the Grand Prix, the Davis Cup, and was once first within the American tennis rating. He was once additionally popular for his tantrums and boorish habit that served to masks an inner, darkish fight. Describing torturous days during which he may position black trash luggage at the home windows and lay in mattress crying for hours, this brutally sincere narrative stresses that melancholy is a psychological disease which may impact somebody. Documenting his 10 yr struggle for regulate of his brain, aided through antidepressant medicine, the selection and power that afforded him the nickname of The Bull” is highlighted. Expressing the enjoyment of feeling reliable for the 1st time in his existence, this deeply relocating tale of nightmare and redemption serves to motivate and encourage a person whose life...
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Extra resources for Acing Depression. A Tennis Champion's Toughest Match
It was a 1954 Ford, dark blue. He didn’t realize I was asleep until I woke up, sitting there, and asked him what we were doing out in the car. My childhood night terrors might have been an early form of panic attacks. I probably had quite a few of them, but some I don’t remember. The part of your brain that’s experiencing it goes underground later and gets lost. One can only imagine how much it affected me at the time. It’s hard to describe the sensations you experience during a night terror. It’s a nightmare.
What I tended to work on. I’d ask her if the toss looked high enough or if my shoulders were rotating into the court. She was an enormous help to me that day. Going into the match, my mental state was good. I was coming down off of an unbelievably good year. I had won eight of the 26 tournaments I entered and was in the finals of five more. S. Opens. ” But as good as the year was, it was tiring. I don’t care if you’re young, you can still get tired. If you take just the one month leading up to that match, it was exhausting.
He had as much of an addiction to trying to control his environment as his father did to alcohol. He was always addicted to control. I’m trying to do mirror images here, between generations. Dadda spanked Dad even when he didn’t deserve it. Total inconsistency. So Dad never wanted to spank me at all. That’s the mirror image of Dad’s control thing: chaos. You want to control everything. You don’t want to feel that pain any more. I can see how Dad wanted to make his world right. His goal was to make his world forevermore secure and not to have that chaos once he got out on his own.