Years ago, something happened that made me decide that I was going to be strong and as perfect as I can be. I wouldn’t ask anyone for help. I would do everything on my own. I went through a bit of a list phase, making exhaustively long lists on perfection and how to achieve it. And I mostly did, in my book. I went to every social gathering. I lost weight. I pulled straight A’s in my graduate classes. I was a supportive girlfriend. I budgeted and paid things off early. I ran a tight ship.
But, obviously, perfection is not something that can be kept up for long periods of time, even if it is achieved. The amount of management that goes into keeping it up is enough to make anyone break. And if you’re someone like me, someone with bouts of depression and anxiety, it’s sure to crack eventually.
I got lucky back then. I was perfect for long enough to make some big changes. It was long enough to buy a house and get most of it in order and end a dead relationship and meet and impress the love of my life. I was lucky that he was the one who made me chill out, that he made me relax and told me that I didn’t need to be perfect and maybe I should “just sit down,” a phrase that I still hear all of the time.
But I still have those predilections for perfection. If I could, I would make another huge exhaustive list and embark on it right now. I would do it right this minute. And I get frustrated with myself when I “fail.” I get frustrated with myself when things are too much for me.
And things ARE too much for me right now, reader. My life is full to bursting. Appointments, money, work, home, relationships, Christmas. It’s all too much. I am barely making it through. I cannot focus on one thing at a time because it’s all this big tangled mess in my head.
But I am going to try. I am going to try to do one thing at a time and take care of myself. Because I have to take care of myself right now. There’s a Thing in me and I want him to be healthy and strong and to not tear his way out of my body like an alien.