The physiology of loneliness and the emptiness under pressure

“I’ve never felt this was empty…I generally feel very, very alone.”
– Alexander Zverev, Wimbledon after the match 2025

Lonely places may not be defeated. Maybe they’re playing without joy.

We often assume that performance degradation means there is something wrong with performance. Maybe the players weren’t focused, the opponent played too well, or tactical mistakes could have changed the game. Alternatively, they may need to improve their mechanics, develop new weapons, or hire new coaches to strengthen the untapped aspects of the game.

However, performance may not be an issue at all.

After a five-set defeat in the first round at Wimbledon, Alexander Zverev did not condemn the opponent’s serves or conditions. He did not cite any injuries or fatigue. What he said was more human and made the neurobiology that underpinned his experiences more clear.

These words reflect something deeper than sports psychology. They refer to physiological withdrawal from being, vitality and play – what Polivagar The theory is explained as changes in the autonomic nervous system Nervous system From connection to protection, safety to threats.

This is not about thinking. That’s about the state.

Beyond the fight and flight: the physiology of amputation

Zverev’s statement – “I sometimes feel very lonely. I struggle mentally” – ensuring that my nervous system no longer has access to safety and trust.

From the perspective of Polivagar, Peak performance It is not just about recruiting resources (sympathetic energy) and focus (intention). It’s about the specific configuration of the autonomic nervous system that allows for mobilization with what I call the play zone.

This is a physiological foundation that allows us to execute, recover and relate from a place of existence, adaptability, and trust.

In our evolutionary journey, we took over our ability to fight and escape. But it was something else that gave us the greatest advantage. It was the ability to communicate, connect, care for each other, and co-ordinate physiological states in ways that support health as well as survival. Resilienceand recovery.

In today’s high-stakes performance environment, these same evolutionary gifts are key, leading to not only sustainable performance, but also joy, purpose and passion.

As these systems move to defense (without the cues of safety and trust, they fade and aspirations fade. And the body does not only lose access to performance, but to a physiological platform that makes performance desirable, fun, meaningful and sustainable.

This isn’t Burnout syndrome Usually we explain it. It’s more of a factor: loss of physiological safety. A disruption in biological rhythms that support vitality, connection, inspiration and trust.

It’s not about leaving the game, taking a vacation, or taking a vacation. It’s not just about removing the pressure you want to carry out. It’s about reassuring your brain, body and nervous system after the battle has ended. And it’s okay to play again.

Loneliness as a physiological signal

“I generally feel very, very alone.”

It’s not just psychological. It is physiological and a state under the psychological experience that Zverev has.

Stephen W. Porges, Ph.D. If the facial mind circuit described by is withdraws due to chronic pressure, we lose the ability to co-regulate, enjoy the game and interact with others. We lose the sense of being seen. We lose the shared rhythm that exists and belongs to us.

Even a stadium full of people. Surrounded by teams. Even playful interactions with close friends.

If your body no longer detects safety, the default is protected. The playzone closes – not because we are weak, but because we don’t believe it’s safe for our biology to feel safe anymore.

This is not a crisis motivation Or mental toughness. This reflects how fine and fragile our performance to physiological conditions is.

What if the problem is not mentally debilitating, but lacking safety?

Zverev said he might ultimately consider working with a mental coach. It’s brave. But that’s what I’m saying too.

“Maybe for the first time in my life, I’ll probably need it.”

In high performance environments, athletes are often taught to disable their bodies. Ignore the discomfort. Push hard. Keep focused.

But we can’t most replace what biology needs most with connections, rhythms, recovery, meaning.

What Zverev explains is not just a mental struggle, but a biological cost to carry out in a state of amputation for too long. Disparities between external demands of competition and internal resources available to meet them. Here’s the message: You are as good as today.

In a way, the cultural message, “If you’re not improving, you’re regressing” violates the biological need enough to feel as acceptable, valued and safe as we do.

The real comeback is internal and relationship

The question is not whether Zverev can find his form again.
I didn’t go anywhere.

He already holds a 35-14 record this year. He made the finals and semi-finals.
This is not about skills. That’s about the state.

Can he return to the way joy, connection, meaning exists not merely accidental, but essential beings, sports, life, in his body? where Confidence And does the existence not enforced, but emerge from a regulated physiological platform?

Because when we feel safe and trust the people around us, we don’t have to play our bodies. Performance is an extension of the internal rhythm. It becomes a form of expression – not protection. It’s a related method. of emotions. of existence. of performance.

Takeout for all of us

Whether you’re a tennis fan or not, Zverev’s integrity is a rare and important reminder.

Success does not protect us from disconnection.
Loneliness is not weakness – it is a signal.
And joy is not manufactured. It is physiological.

A playzone is a physiological state that supports real-time performance. A state of play is the life that is possible when we can return to that state.

Ultimately, the state of play is not something we have achieved. That’s what we access. By returning to the biological rhythm of safety, trust and shared experiences.

And the game is not about tennis. And it’s not really played on the court.
It is played inside the body. A real victory feels safe enough to show up, for better or worse, to be perfectly visible, regardless of what happened or how things unfold.

Zverev is not broken. He doesn’t need to fix it.
He needs to find out who his nervous system is safe, secure, reliable and reliable.