What a Good Boy

I'm not getting up at 4:00 to go help with my father anymore. Instead, I'm getting up at 3:45 to ride with Kathe on her paper route.
Among other things, I'm trying to learn the route so I can cover for her if need be.
I am learning things about how I learn things. I notice that I still fail to integrate verbal or written instruction with practice -- even when I have both read and done the task before. A significant difficulty if I want to go back to nursing school.
I also noticed something else that might be even more useful: I got quite upset over a series of mistakes, and noticed that I wasn't successfully calming myself. Quite the contrary, I was reinforcing it. Was I enjoying the rush of emotion?
I don't think that was quite it. I think it was that I was saying to myself, "I made a mistake. That's bad. But I am a good boy. I have to be. I am quite upset over that mistake, so clearly I know how bad it is. I had better make myself even more upset, so I can be sure I was upset enough, or else I won't be good enough."
Got to stop thinking that way. Ummm, make that, I've got to stop responding that way.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Or perhaps, 'I have to start responding differently'."