This title echos in my head as a mantra while I type this, though I have re-written this first sentence 3 times already. By default, my brain wants to perfect the format before I continue with my next thought. I’m failing to be perfect, which is the point, but I feel uneasy. This intro has been heavily monitored, pondered, and re-written. My challenge to myself going forth is to post exactly what comes to mind, mistakes included. This is going to be a bit painful to my perfection-oriented eyes, but it’s an exercise for myself as much as it is an attempt to connect with other recovering perfectionists out there. So here we go, my inner thoughts typed out for the world.
My quest to conquer perfectionism has started recently as a result of my therapy journey I recently embarked on a few weeks ago. I’ve attended in-person/online therapy close to a dozen times. My hands are starting to sweat at the moment, as the challenge to post this as-is has been warped into my head as “this needs to be perfect in 1 draft, do NOT mess this up!” I’m failing at failing, so that means I win? Why do I fear posting bad content? It seems the worst-case scenario in my mind as I catastrophize this project are the comments on errors and mistakes my fellow grammar sticklers. Normal people would fear getting doxxed, I suppose. Already I type past the lines that are underlined in judgemental red squiggles, and oh my this hurts. Despite feeling uncomfortable, I remember what my therapist said about anxiety: we as humans took genuine life threats from our hunter-gatherer days and evolved to feel that threat toward things that only cause us discomfort. Even if that discomfort is fairly chronic and debilitating.
I was watching the Olympics yesterday, specifically the US men’s gymnastics team. I notice the nervous pacing and deep sighs the athletes take as common fodder in my daily life. It’s inspiring to watch them overcome their nerves to demonstrate the insanely hard work and talent that these 21 year-olds have amassed their whole lives. It gives me the tenacity to push through my anxiety and make it to work later that evening. Then I reflect on my situation and think, “is it a bit sad though? That overcoming the stress brought on by ADHD and anxiety just to do my daily life feels comparable to competing on world-wide TV?” I admit, needing that to be my source of strength feels a bit pathetic. I have to remind myself that my struggles are valid. As an adult woman who only got diagnosed with ADHD and autism level 1 this year, this internal battle is the base of my mental health journey. Having to unlearn beliefs and limits I’ve internalized since childhood.
You see, I was a high-achieving child and teenager. I was quiet and shy, but very observable of my surroundings with a strong curiosity to learn about the world. I was in every gifted, honors, and advanced placement (AP) class in school that was available. I was always told by my teachers and parents that I was so smart and would be very successful in life. I’m not complaining. On the contrary, it was a source of pride. It helped me befriend other “smart” kids, as socializing was never my strong suit. But with that came expectations, success was the default, not a feat to be praised. Failure didn’t happen often, but when it did, it felt catastrophic. That’s when the attention would pour in to find out what happened and how could I mess up. And I did not want attention. I wanted to do what I was supposed to do and keep everything running smoothly.
I can’t deny this rhetoric has followed me into adult hood. I live my life with a list of shoulds, including how/what I should feel, act, do, think, and say. And paradoxically, it prevents me not only from perfectionism, but bogs down productivity all together. Tackling the shoulds is the first battle in my quest to defeat perfectionism. Hence here we are in my first post. My blog is currently bare bones, with only a domain and a color theme. I should flesh out the aesthetics first to make it look more professional and engaging. Let’s be honest though: I won’t get around to posting the meat and potatoes of the blog, entries, but will spend literal hours fretting over the most minute details of web design. I realize this and remember a common saying I have seen in recent times: anything worth doing is worth doing badly. Badly, poorly, half-assed, pick your poison. The point is, people like me would rather post nothing than something that we are completely satisfied with, even if this belief is held subconsciously.
So here is my post. I don’t know if it has a point or has been read despite being a diatribe that many people don’t have the attention span to digest. But you know what? I was productive. I achieved something. I wrote and published my first blog post. And that’s more fulfilling than the dozens of shoulds that I ignored to do this.