Thursday, 7 July 2016

Anything But Perfect

There's a saying, and it's something about perfect being the enemy of good - and I can relate. For my whole life, or at least definitely my teenage years; I've strived for perfection. I failed - so many times; I never got anywhere close to perfection, I fell short every single time and I fell too far from the mark in a hundred different ways: I didn't do as well as I would have done in school, I didn't hold down a permanent job, I didn't hold down a relationship in the way many people my age did - I felt as though because I wasn't perfect, I wasn't good enough. If I couldn't do it perfectly, it wasn't worth doing it at all. I had failed, why even bother.


I wasted so much of my life striving to be perfect that it wasn't even fun anymore. I wasn't doing anything perfectly (mostly because I'm pretty sure that that isn't even in the slightest bit possible to do any single thing completely perfectly) and I was so miserable because I felt as though I wasn't enough. It fueled my anxiety, which only made me want to strive for perfection more and I went around in this vicious circle where not achieving perfection was only upsetting me more and more, making me even more determined to hit the goals that I felt as though I needed to hit.

Then I got really ill, too ill to function, and then I recovered. Somewhere along the way - I learned perfection isn't everything. There's something about recovering from wanting to end your own life that changes you, and in this case it made me thankful for all of the things that I suddenly can do, instead of worrying about whether I was doing them absolutely perfectly. I learned to laugh at myself when I messed up, I learned to speak Spanish even when I know I'm rusty at best, I've learned to take on constructive criticism and corrections and use them to spur myself forwards.

Truthfully, I've learned that I'm never going to be perfect. I'm never going to do perfect things, I'm never going to come out on top all of the time - and honestly, if I did then it would be boring. I would never have any fun, never have my ribs hurt from laughing at some of the ridiculous things that I've done - I'd never learn anything about myself or better myself whatsoever. I've learned that some of my favourite times since I've started recovery have been the things that go so hysterically wrong they're the stories you can't tell to people who weren't there because your laughter stops you forming the words.

I've learned I'll never be perfect, and I think that in itself makes me the perfect version of myself. On that note, feel free to chuck any spelling and grammar corrections in the comments.

Sammy xo.

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