I feel as if I’ve written these words before. I feel as if I’ve already been here, staring out the window and wondering how to best explain myself.
I doubt I’ll get it just right, but even if I got even a tiny piece of this feeling off my chest, I know I’ll feel relieved. I guess that’s the beauty of writing – the storm of feelings turns into words. And words turn into comfort.
Perfectionism & me
Perfectionism means that the person is always trying her or his best and always pushing to be better. But it also means constant self-doubt and goals, that are not possible to achieve (because you raise the stakes as you go).
It means I’m doing my best, but still at the end wondering: Could I have done this better? It means always focusing on the mistakes and errors. Somehow – they are all I see. Okay, not always, but sometimes. Or often? I guess the right way to put it is to say that it’s impossible not to see the mistakes.
The end of the year is like the ultimate exam I take. I look at the paper and remember all the answers I got wrong. Even if I got nine out of ten right. And even if I managed to be happy of my great results, I still feel a bit anxious of the time running out. Is there more to be done? I don’t know.
Why does it even feel like such an exam? Isn’t it just days and weeks, months and hours? Isn’t it just life? Isn’t a year just a year and a moment much, much more important? I’d like to think so.
It’s such a roller coaster of feelings – reason telling me it’s fine and mind telling me it’s not fine. And I feel weird writing about this and in some way saying it out loud. But it’s there, the perfectionism and the only enemy I have – myself.
And I know. It’s not all bad. In fact, I guess it’s also my power. I try even harder to focus on the positive and that is usually the higher power. There are more days when I celebrate my imperfections than the days where I doubt myself. Much more. It makes me beyond happy to know I have already gotten here. I can honestly say I have done the work (not all of it) and I know myself. And the fact that you’re never really ready – I guess that’s the beauty of it.
I’m constantly learning to let go of things. Letting go of that doubt. Letting go of that over-achieving. Letting go of things that don’t do me any good. It’s a work in progress.
It’s always easier to write about things after they’ve happened. It’s easier to be victorious and yell from the rooftops: I did it! I won!
But I guess it’s also more honest to say, that there’s still miles to go. That I’m possibly not even halfway there. And even if feels bad at times and there are those horrible nightmares where you can’t put the lights on or run anywhere, it’s worth it.
It is. Life, I mean.
Even if you had to work just a little bit harder than the others – to, I don’t know – raise a toast and enjoy it? – it tastes even better, be it cheap or expensive.
I’m pretty proud of myself and the year 2018. Writing that down and actually meaning it isn’t easy, but it’s okay.
There’s still miles to go and I look forward to each and every one of them.
P.S. In these photos I’m wearing the green shades from the eye palette I wrote about on my latest post.