To the Volatile Perfectionist
Entry posted by selkiespot in reflecting ·
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I said something without thinking yesterday. I don't remember what it was. I was sober, and I was happy. I was laughing. That's all I really took from it. It didn't make much sense at the time to me, either. I usually fixate on what I say without thinking, scrutinizing it for any potential misgivings, any error to chastise myself over, and I'm coming up empty-handed. I just kept the feeling, mostly.
Is that good?
I don't say all of this to brag. I know what you do for a living. You're a piece of me, after all... Maybe integration isn't as complete and spontaneous as I wished it was. I know that recovery is anything but spontaneous. I almost regret bringing up my successes, because there are so many struggles and - to be blunt - failures that outweigh them. They outweigh me.
I think I understand. The way that every action feels like it has a time limit. Like writing a note, sending a message, sketching a picture, practicing an instrument, cooking a meal, everything I ever want to do is some ticking bomb with a thousand rules that I don't fully understand. I threw out the manual a long time ago, thinking that maybe ignoring all of this would help somehow. But then I find my hands shaking as I search for the right wire to cut. Blue, black, red, green? Since when were there orange wires? What does that one mean?
"It's all in your head," someone can say, and by the time I've switched tracks enough to respond to them, the bomb explodes in my face. I say the wrong thing and make them upset, or I accidentally close a document without saving, or I burn something on the stove. Unfortunately, ignoring things doesn't seem to make it much better. These bombs are always there.
I don't know what to do about it, nor what to really say. That you were right? That there always is something to worry about, something to hate myself over? Something to fix, something to clean, something to erase? Something new to defuse, in the hopes that avoiding this explosion can somehow change everything?
I don't think it does.
Because every time I cook something that I think is delicious, something that I can be actually proud of, it's gone before long. It's eaten, and then there's the inevitable (and exhausting) question of the next meal up ahead. Every drawing that I think looks better than I thought possible is ultimately insignificant. I've had that feeling many times, and rarely do others seem to think that the results are as impressive as I do. Every interaction I have where I say the right thing to someone will always be outweighed by countless more interactions where I said the wrong thing.
I don't say this to be defeatist. I say this because I think perfection is impossible. There's no way to be a fundamentally "good" person who does "good" things if I'm so afraid of doing anything that I do nothing at all. If the fear is that the bad is always going to outweigh the good, then shriveling and wasting away isn't ever going to fix that.
I have to be afraid. I have always been afraid.
It's okay to be afraid.
It's not the end of the world, I don't think. Maybe one day it will be, but I want to look forward to something. I want to try something new and be happy because I'm not thinking about explosions for once. I want to do something I've done a thousand times before, and be happy because I know that I can do it again.
I know that it isn't easy. I'm sorry that it isn't. But we have to try at some point.
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