Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Perfection paralysis.

It's an almighty eating disorder cliche, but I'm a perfectionist. Slightly less cliched, I'm a secret perfectionist. Your quintessential tart with a heart, full blown I-really-care-but-want-to-look-like-I-don't. Not because I think it's uncool to not care, or owt like that... I'm hipster enough to be more drawn to the uncool, but not hipster enough to make THAT cool, if you follow ;)

There are a few things I care about. Actually, there are a lot of things I care about. I care what people think of me, although not quite enough anymore to waste time on people I don't think are worth it or to attempt to fit in. Or enough to delete this blog, with all the shit I've managed to cause through it and my 'attention seeking', hahahaha. I care what people think of my friends or family; I have an insanely intense hate for anybody who has ever wronged someone I love. There's a friend of a friend who every time I see, I want to set fire to her stupid fucking face, for shit she's said about another of my friends. I can't even look at her. I care about my degree and the grades that I get and, of everything, that's most definitely a secret. God forbid people think I miss classes and lectures because I'm an anxious mess, rather they think that I just don't care.

It's caring about my degree that's an actual nightmare right now. I have two deadlines this week and one next. I've done one of the essays and it's bad. It's really not good. I mean, I highly doubt that it's not passable, but it's a long way off perfect. I'm trying to avoid the word 'average' because it actually makes me want to cry a bit, to the point where in the past I've deliberately failed things I was afraid I'd do average in. It's something that I really need to work on. So I'm faced with an essay that's pretty A-word, another that needs doing by Thursday and another after that to be in on Monday. And I just can't start the one for Thursday, I can't do it. It's worse than writer's block, it's total perfection paralysis. It's not going to be perfect; I've been too ill, I am too ill now. So I can't do it. I need to care just a little less, just so I can get something on paper instead of getting so worked up.

It's not just the pressure from myself, though. I wrote a month or so ago about potentially being thrown out of the uni. Well, that potential is still there and unlikely to go between now and graduation in summer 2013. I can't have any episodes between now and then, or I'm out. I need to show them, I need to get perfect academics to stand any chance of being able to appeal that if, when, I next have an episode. I'm so stressed. I need to calm my thoughts, try and get something written, anything. I need to stop thinking about the potential of being thrown out, the pressure is melting my head, but... Oh. Stress. Garbled stress.

This is such an Arthur (Arthur Story) blog, I'll no doubt write summat proper about the being kicked out thing, when I'm a bit more calm. Oooft, done. I'm actually getting pissed off at the shite written quality of this, hahahahahahaha.


  1. "Perfection paralysis", I like that. Has a nicer ring to it than black-and-white thinking.