My side of the street

Today I was given a gift--a reality check.  I'm a perfectionist.  Honestly, I've never seen myself this way.  I've thought of myself as a laid back person and in some ways, I am.  But overall, even as a kid, if I wasn't really good at it, meaning the best or perfect at it, then I wouldn't bother.  Wasn't even a competition thing--it had nothing to do with the other person. I needed to be perfect at it. This has affected everything in my life. My jobs, my education, my relationships.  If it wasn't perfect, I didn't want it. If I didn't look perfect, why bother. I would get depressed, nothing has ever been good enough.

Just yesterday, I was going to spend the day outside.  The morning started off cloudy--so in my head the day was shot.  No reason to try...not good enough.  

I've been told I was a perfectionist before, but I had this image of perfectionists as these completely put together on time people. That's not me.  But in reality, I am one.  I can be real anal about things: always being right, stickler for details. I never leave the house unless I've deemed I look ok from every angle. No wonder I have anxiety issues.  

This is very freeing to know this...for people who don't have perfectionist issues...you might think, what's the big deal? The big deal is: its unconscious. As a perfectionist I think, I should have known this (just thought that, which is funny).  I run around trying to make sure all the plates I am spinning stay in the air, when no one cares but me.  I think that I'm doing this for others, but I'm doing this for myself.  

I think its a way to control things...to control the chaos in life. That is an illusion. I need to let chaos happen. God, that's scary for me.