Practice makes the opposite of perfect

We went golfing today, and I had my worst round of the season. Again. It seems the more I play, the worse I get. I shot a 119, which just 6 strokes better than the first time I ever went golfing, which was easily 10 years ago.

Although I shot par on one hole, the rest of the round simply went terribly. I've lost the ability to hit a fairway wood (but I didn't bother switching to my irons until I flubbed 3 consecutive shots on the 18th hole), and those were the mainstay of my game. I can't drive very well, my short game is equally atrocious, and the less said about my putting the better. Today was a bit different in that my putting was a bit better than normal and my short irons stopped pushing off to the right, but those good things were balanced out by my complete lack of long woods.

I could probably fit a name to this new condition, but I'm reluctant to. I'm a bit embarassed by my newfound failings, especially since I used to be so good at hitting a nice 3 wood and, to a lesser extent, 5 wood. I used to tee off with my 3 wood because I could hit it so well, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to use them again.

Talking about golf is starting to get depressing. Why am I bad at everything I enjoy?