My perfectionism just may be the death of me, aside from the fact that I have stalwartly decided not to kill myself, despite my frequent urges. I used to work really hard on things, and did quite well in school until college, when the task of perfectionism became too great, especially coupled with the substance abuse. Now my #perfectionism has become incredibly internalized, as I’m not trying to make 100% on my test scores, but rather always to say and do the perfect thing 100%. It’s exhausting.
Thankfully, as an adult who has studied psychology in a very amateur way, I do now realize that what might actually be going on is something a little less sinister (yet creepy nonetheless), and that is simply Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. While I have never technically received this diagnosis (to my knowledge), I can finally call my #Perfectionism just a little bit of this #OCD. My #schizophrenic features of delusional thinking and the not being able to rid myself of troublseome thoughts, I think fits with this as well, the desire to think things out to perfection. Like I noticed, I’ve really only been thinking about my mental illness for the past twenty-five years, and I do so obsessively on a bad day, and not at all on a good day.
And so today, I thought obsessively about a mistake that I may have made on my time card, after having been anonymously reprimanded about it at a staff meeting. Can I just tell you how this got me down all day and all the way home from work, until I could physically release it by talking myself out of it all, somewhat obsessively. You do see what I’m doing for this process, writing about it, to plant it on the keypad instead of further scarring my delicate brain.
Oh yeah, so my #delusionalthinking manifests as thinking about the End Times and my non place in it, that has been going on for so long that it’s just ludicrous, especially when I safely take my meds and I can see this. I am so thankful that I can realize this when I’m taking my meds as prescribed by my super-kind psychiatrist who is actually nice to me and wants me to be well. If any of y’all reading this aren’t treated by the best doctor ever, and this applies to most conditions, then I suggest doing some dr. shopping, but not by not being cared for in the process. It helps to actually study one’s condition to accurately dialogue about the health questions at hand, and to hopefully make the best #informed decisions about one’s life and health.
My great idea of how to be well and not #batshitcrazy, is now that of making #art. This is some right here, but more like a health-seeking diary instead of real story telling. Obviously I’m not a good story-teller, as look at how I can’t get to the point. The art of which I speak ought to be doodles and sketches, and overworked paintings to satisfy my desire to make something beautiful. The great thing about art is that you can have a lot of brushstrokes, or scratchy lines until you get at the heart and soul of what you are trying to render. And do it all with beautiful colors, or not. It’s all good, as we say. That is all of us who celebrate life for being perfectly #natural, and not necessarily just #perfect.