You ever have those aspects of yourself that you’re not entirely sure are a good thing? Well I do, at least. Lots of them actually. I’ve got this specific one that I wouldn’t consider the most obvious or detectable to those who know me but don’t get to spend enough time around me to be able to pick up the said trait. For someone closer, in this case my sister who’s also my roommate has grown accustomed to it and isn’t quite fond of it. In regards to it, it makes me the Debbie Downer sister, the most up tight, the less spontaneous, oh, and the worrier too… I wouldn’t really say that I hate this specific aspect of myself fully, it grounds me to an extent and anyways, I’m only regarding it now as a flaw on the occasional times when I wish it didn’t restrain me as immensely as it does… Okay okay, enough of the beating around the bush nonsense and I’ll get right to just saying exactly what it is this said aspect of myself is. I believe that in lay man’s language, what I’ve got going on is the character aspect of a perfectionist. I’m not 100% sure whether in most cases, one’s actions that may fall under the bracket of a perfectionist are excusable entirely and whether it eliminates one from some form of fault. This isn’t to mean that wrong actions are meant to be absolved just cause one couldn’t help their perfectionist nature… and now I’m getting derailed from what I initially meant to write in regard to this insistent need of mine to do everything by the book…back to focus.
Take for example, my last statement right there. It’s absolutely okay that I write whatever comes to mind and not feel like it’s some crime I’ve committed that requires some form of punishment from god knows who or what. I’ve said it to myself before that I wish I could make my writing absolutely spontaneous but despite trying to keep up with that notion, minutes before I was able to write all this down here, I couldn’t help myself but scribble down a few highlights on this exact topic in the fear that I’d screw it up if I left it to the fate of my mind to remember exactly what my line of thought was at the very beginning. Pardon me if I hardly sound like I’m making any sense. Technically, my incessant need to have everything in some prime and proper version of things does piss on my parade a lot more than I’d like to admit.
Do you know what’s most absurd about it to me in regard to this, it’s the crazy notion in my mind that’s convinced of some form of reprimand in the case that things aren’t done in the ‘rightful’ manner. My conscious mind believes that whatever action that’s to be undertaken, if slightly bent from its set out route of focus, there will be life changing repercussion…Maybe in some cases, there might stand the chance of the odds being in favour of things needing to be done exactly as they are supposed to be done but on the off chance that the world won’t end if I don’t do things all perfect, it makes it direly impossible to have spontaneity ever happen to me. I cannot begin to elaborate just how much of this aspect of myself is fully embedded in me. It’s in everything little thing I can think of that I do. From the way I talk, to the way I carry myself around in front of people, to the way I arrange my things in my wardrobe, to the way I write… It goes on and on. It’s even trickled down to a hobby that’s absolutely supposed to relax me and completely take the edge off which is what has led me to being here and writing it down. Colouring. Yes, you read that right. I recently started colouring and had been yearning to do it for a while now because I thought to myself, why not, seems like it would be quite fun and it would bring the carefree child in me out a little bit more, to reminisce on easier times in life through bringing colour to portraits & pictures. But guess what, even that had to get trampled over by my need to do things right… I was just colouring a while ago and I couldn’t help but feel upset that I wasn’t colouring one of the pictures in my colouring book exactly as the object usually is in reality. When I first started, I’d insist on checking exactly what colours a certain picture was so that I’d colour exactly in the same manner. Rather than embracing the spontaneity of creating my own art in colour, I was anxious that by some random chance, someone would pick up my colouring book and question me for not colouring respectively as it should be. The whole point of me colouring was never to seek out perfection but despite that, I can’t seem to shake off the idea that everything needs to fall exactly into its right place or in this case, its right colour.
Like I said, to some extent, I’ve grown accustomed to it because without a doubt, I’ve never been one to live on the edge of life. I’ve always played things safe, never to purposely or intentionally rock the boat. Being a perfectionist has helped somewhat calm my raging anxiety over things beyond my control though it is also technically built on the very said anxiety. I truly believe that if I was less of an anxious person, I’d be more relaxed, maybe Zen even. Maybe then, I’d care less about the fear of an absurd repercussion than trying to have everything fall into its proper place. I’m sadly a real major stickler for order and despite how much I’d wish to change that, I think it’s best to admit that it will take a whole lot to rid me of what can be now termed second nature to me. Gotta admit though, I wish my mind, soul and body would just go with the flow you know… Sore away with the wind, wherever it may take me without the fear of a possible anxiety attack. What can I say, it’d be nice to have my own nature try not wring the breath out of my neck in the face of a little imperfection.
P. s This here is a picture of my current remotely acceptable coloured picture, not sure whether it’s a smurf or a gnome but I wanna hope that it’s colours match those acceptable to the gods of perfectionism. 😌
..another P.S …So apparently, from Pinterest quotes, it’s not at all a good thing to be a perfectionist. It’s very flawed seemingly. I’m not here to justify it’s good or bad aspects, maybe just to reflect on its disadvantage a little, at least when it’s not being life threatening.