When do you struggle with perfectionism? How does it mess with your head?

I have OCD. My struggle with perfectionism has stolen years from my life.
After my latest fall into the abyss, I found a good therapist and spent a good year working on things, and I am managing really well, right now, but when I am not… I have a hard time functioning in the world. I don’t expect perfection from anyone else in my life, but there are times when I am incapable of accepting anything less from myself… despite it being an impossible goal. I have had complete meltdowns in the doorway of my closet more times than I can count, I have spent countless hours in front of a mirror attempting to correct problems that don’t exist, I have spent long periods being completely reclusive due to my anxiety and overwhelming shame about my imperfections… living with an irrational fear that someone will look at me, and be truly horrified. It is very difficult for me to let go of the idea that I must be perfect, or I will not even try. But, I’m learning.

I know I can do better, with everything , so I beat myself to smithereens… That’s my perfectionism. Sometimes I kick myself for a single sentence I said, for hours if not days.

Wow, @ANef_is_Enuf! Great Answer!

Can you tell me anything about where you think this idea of being perfect came from? It sounds almost as if it is built into you, but perhaps not?

@wundayatta it’s a coping mechanism. I feel out of control in the world, something on the outside hurts me, my reflex is to turn it inward and attempt to control something.

I’m uncomfortable trying to learn new things because I don’t want to look like an amateur. There are so many things that I would like to do (cooking, sewing, playing instruments, photography, drawing, exercising, playing certain video games), but I want to do them well. Since I haven’t done much of any of these before, I hold myself back from practicing (especially in front of other people) because I don’t want to mess up.

I recently learned how to crack an egg. I was terrified of doing it myself, because I didn’t want to get shell in the mixture, and would always ask someone else to do it as a result. My significant other made me learn how to do it. I’m grateful. Maybe it’s time I try forcing myself to learn a few more things, even if they don’t go as smoothly.

Oddly enough, perfectionism doesn’t always kick in when I’m doing something I know how to do, like writing a research paper. I’m not sure why that is.

This is a great question. I can associate with you both on many levels @ANef_is_Enuf and @wundayatta. It (perfectionism) is one of very few sources left to initiate depression of the lowest fall.

I’ve chased many of the same ghosts as you @ANef_is_Enuf… “problems that don’t exist”. Perfectionism can be a curse. Good you say “I’m learning”… me too, hopefully. Your words are encouraging.

@wundayatta Have you considered applying your taste for improv to the Messiah? In music, there are remakes which attempt to duplicate the original, and then there are remakes which interpret the original in a more personal manner to the player. I believe the challenge you put upon yourself is noble, from a technical position. But I also believe that it is your right, and possibly your duty, to express the piece in the manner it moves you as an individual. Consider putting your signature on it… then pass it along to the next. In this way you have affected an intentional change upon the world.

Most westerners are familiar with the concept of Feng shui. But unfortunately, many only research the philosophy on the surface, morphing it into a quick study of getting things just right. A deeper understanding reveals it is much more than that. It is an evolving art of pursuing the perfect spot… but with the knowledge that it can never really be attained.

But more applicable to this discussion is a lesser known Chinese philosophy called Wabi-sabi. This, I believe, is a higher pursuit than Feng shui. The art/philosophy of Wabi-sabi encourages one to find the purest beauty in the imperfections.

The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete…

Keeping this in mind, I find that my best art (photography, vocals and billiards) is most rewarding when the imperfections are embraced, studied, and refined to a degree that doesn’t seek to sand off the rough edges in order to blend them into the obvious perfections that everyone sees, but instead the imperfections are studied for what they have to offer. In this way, new archetypes are invented, new motifs are exposed, and knowledge is won beyond any technical study that a teacher could ever hope to bestow upon a student.

Basically… Good Enough IS.

I can’t think of any major struggles I’ve had. I do feel I have to “make up” for my “failures” when I was just a bit younger. I was a low achiever in high school and had to pump out more work so I would graduate and went from a pretty low GPA to a 2.8 junior and senior year. I was just some lost kid that smoked weed, partied and had no idea what to do with my life.

I joined the military on a whim, seriously. The recruiter asked me if I wanted to join, and I just said “Yeah, sure” right there on the spot and didn’t think about it at all. I was kind of a “late bloomer” and still am somewhat.

So, I see a lot of my friends going to college and getting jobs, having fun with friends and all that, and here I am stuck in the military being alone all the time with people I don’t seem to have much in common with.

Now, I just feel I could have done better, so I’m really anal about doing all of my college homework to the T and not making mistakes because I want to feel like I’m doing something right. I got really pissed off sometimes when I would miss one point on a paper I worked hard on and made one mistake, but I also realized what that was doing to me and I chilled out a little bit, but I still have that motivation to not slack off. I think it’s good for me.

Interesting ideas, @RealEyesRealizeRealLies. I think there are many traditions where they leave an imperfection in a weaving or other work of art. Some explain it in religious terms—not aspiring to be god? A way for god to enter the work? Not sure.

But you made me think about the role this performance plays in my life. It happens only once a year. So in one way—that opportunity for perfection is an imperfection in the larger scheme of my life. Perhaps I preserve it to remind me of what it was like when I lived in constant fear of being wrong and inadequate.

There’s nothing like classical music performance to make you feel inadequate. I don’t remember exactly when it happened—maybe 8th or 9th grade—I became the first chair trumpet in the band. Up until then, I was with a group of other trumpets playing the same thing, and that meant my mistakes were covered over by other people’s notes.

But when I became first chair, I became responsible for all the solos and that meant that any mistakes I made there would be obvious to all. When I think about the anxiety that caused and still causes me, I wonder why I do it. Is it the glory? Do I get the glory whether I make mistakes or not? What am I trying to learn?

I know that in the past, people have complimented me, and if I did not think I had done well enough, I would deny the compliment. I know this is a habit I still have. Maybe I am just hoping to learn, eventually, how to be a fool, and to play, and enjoy what I do that I wanted to do, but also enjoy doing what I didn’t expect to do.

A lot of the problem comes from my anticipation of what others are expecting. If it isn’t perfect, will they be disappointed in me? If they are disappointed, what will happen? Will they want me again? If someone better comes along, will they dump me? Will they be loyal to me? Or will they not be disappointed if I am not perfect? Will they be grateful that I am part of the community, no matter what?

In theory, I know I am acceptable without being perfect. In reality, I want to be perfect so I can be secure. Except, that it doesn’t make me secure, because what happens if I am not perfect? Will I get thrown out?

Actually, it seems that I am far more secure not being perfect, because if I am accepted on the basis of the reality (that I am not perfect), then isn’t that the best of all? That means I don’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to do better every time. I don’t have to compete. I can just belong.

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Interesting story and I’m somewhat similar. No matter what job or task I have I’ve always found that I need to perform at the top of my game well above and beyond the call of duty. This type of effort recently paid off for me however since a place that I was working at through a temp service rarely hired temp employees full time decided to hire me full time, along with a literal doubling of my current salary.

I’m like you when it comes to something I’m motivated doing. If I’m not motivated then I flop or I don’t care how I perform. I think the issue of perfection is related to self-esteem and maybe confidence. I’ve noticed (personally) that those people who are classified as having low confidence tend to hold themselves to much higher standards than their more ‘confident’ counterparts.

I guess there is a huge difference between the person who consistently performs well above average but who looks down upon themselves vs the person who thinks that they always/always will perform well but actually performs below average, or average at best.

Perfectionism has caused me to tear up, throw out some artwork/written work that was probably just fine.

Perfectionism has caused me to not even try some things because I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it perfectly.

Perfectionism has led me to be pretty picky about how tidy my house is which has been hard on my kids.

(the list goes on and on)

The good thing is that as I’ve grown older I’ve been able to rationalize that imperative feeling and let many things go as “good enough”.

My being a perfectionist makes me dwell on grades when I shouldn’t and on comments that do not mean anything, really. I’ve worked hard over the years to say something like ‘Will this really matter in a year? or even in 6 months? No? Then give it 2 days worth of your agonizing and move the fuck on!” and well, it’s worked a little bit.

@wundayatta “A lot of the problem comes from my anticipation of what others are expecting.”

Expectations… Your choice of word here gives me reason to revisit and correct my own.

@RealEyesRealizeRealLies “that doesn’t seek to sand off the rough edges in order to blend them into the obvious perfections that everyone sees…” Not “sees”... I should have said “expects, or desires, or hopes for”.

Dogma wags its tail in mysterious ways.

@Simone_De_Beauvoir “Will this really matter in a year? ...give it 2 days worth of your agonizing and move the fuck on!”

No truer words were ever spoken. I struggle with it like an ego demon. I often lose.

@ANef_is_Enuf Expectations… Your choice of word here gives me reason to revisit and correct my own.

Over the years, I’ve been training myself to not think in terms of right and wrong as much as I had been. So, in stead of thinking in terms of “correcting” my expectations, I would entertain this whole dialog in my head about how I wanted to establish “different” expectations. Not better ones. Not correct ones. Just different ones.

Then I laugh at myself sometimes because it all sounds so PC and what’s wrong with judging myself? What’s wrong with judging is that I can kill myself with judgments. I can be so judgmental, and I know others have felt the sting of that. I can scare people just with a quick curling of my lip. My inlaws have actually mentioned this in conversation.

But I do it to myself most of all, I think. And when I was sick, I was very harsh with myself, and that was putting me in mortal danger. Not all my fault, though. It’s the brain chemistry that made it much more dangerous for me to judge myself that way. Being prone to depression puts one at serious risk for suicide. Fortunately, I manage to avoid that.

My point is that this is a very serious issue for me, and that while it may seem like an excess of political correctness to try to avoid judging people in certain ways, for me, there’s good reason to do that. There’s good reason to try to be more forgiving and kinder to myself, and if it works for me, why not for others?

Then again, maybe only some people need that kind of kindness, and most other people are able to stand up to judgment and criticism and perfectionistic impulses. I don’t know. Am I just being self-centered when I say I think it can’t be very good for anyone? Or is it possible that just about everyone carries the perfectionistic impulse too far?

That is something I had to struggle with for many, many years. I am surprised to find that many things that used to bother me a lot no longer seem very important. I am only slightly annoyed by so many things being out of order, and I don’t feel compelled to straighten them out any more.

My adult grandson did get a laugh out of it when I compulsively straightened a stack of display boxes at the store last week, so I’m not completely over it.

@YARNLADY I still turn can so you can see what’s in them. I know that’s slightly OCD lol.

Words of wisdom from Chinese philosophy: ‘the greatest perfection appears flawed’.

@ANef_is_Enuf Amazing Answer
Really interesting stories here. I’ve had many struggles with perfectionism throughout the years. The most damaging and ultimately life threatening one for me was developing Anorexia Nervosa. I started out on a diet, but with many many issues suppressed over the years, it spiralled out of control very quickly and developed into an eating disorder. Nothing was ever good enough. I never felt good enough. I was constantly striving for my skewed notion of perfection, completely blind to the fact that it was killing me. It was a coping mechanism for me and I’m slowly learning that I am enough, just as I am. It’s something that is always with me. I carry that perfectionism to whatever it is that I’m doing such as college, work, etc and I berate myself if I do not get top grades in papers, etc.
It’s such a bloody waste of time and energy.

I was pretty compulsive with my perfectionism in high school. I realized it was a problem when I was in 11th grade. I was really sick and I had a PICC (peripherally inserted central catheter – basically a large IV tube that entered via an artery in my upper arm and went into my heart) for two months.

It was late June and school was wrapping up with state exams. I had two to take, one that I needed in order to graduate, and another that was strongly encouraged but not required. These exams couldn’t be postponed for any reason, but if you missed or failed them, you could retake them over the summer.

I was starting to get better until the week before exams, when my entire body inexplicably started hurting. It got worse and worse and my parents took me to the emergency room. The doctors didn’t do any tests. They decided it was probably a side effect of my new medication and sent me away.

The pain got worse yet. I couldn’t walk anymore. My parents wanted to take me to another hospital for a second opinion. But my first state exam was the next day, the one I needed in order to graduate, and I wanted to get it done first. That morning I was in horrible pain, and my parents begged me to skip the exam and go to the ER. I bullied them into letting me go to school for my exam. It will only take a couple of hours. Nothing bad can happen in a couple of hours. I went to school in a wheelchair.

Partway through my exam I took a bathroom break. I peed blood. I didn’t mention it, just went back to my desk.

After my exam I let my parents take me to the second hospital. These doctors had a shred of sense and did a blood culture, and they admitted me for the night. I woke up the next morning shaking uncontrollably. I hadn’t even hit my call button when a doctor ran into the room. She had just looked at my blood culture and it was bad. Ten more doctors and nurses ended up coming into the room to help. They started putting IVs everywhere they could, even in my ankles, and pumped me full of saline in order to artificially keep my blood pressure up. It was plummeting and I was in danger of multiple organ failure. After they had me stablized, I learned that I had just experienced septic shock, which is fatal about 40% of the time. The PICC had gotten infected and the infection had spread throughout my blood. They moved me to the ICU.

I was supposed to be sitting my other exam that day, the one that I didn’t need in order to graduate but which was strongly recommended. I learned there was a teacher in the hospital who was proctoring exams for kids who didn’t want to miss them. I asked to be given my exam. Not 2 hours ago I had had a near death experience, and now I was taking an exam, having to use my left hand because I was getting a blood transfusion in the right one.

I got a 98 on the first exam on the a 94 on the second.

In hindsight I can’t help but laugh at the sordid, skewed state of my priorities back then, but also cringe at the thought of what would have happened if the infection had been just 24 hours futher along. I am confident I would have died if I hadn’t already been at the hospital when I went into septic shock that morning, and had it happened 24 hours earlier I wouldn’t have been at the hospital, I would have been at school, taking my exam. I would have died in my fucking desk. It’s pathetic it took something like this to finally get through my thick head how self destructive my perfectionism was, but fortunately I did learn after this. I took easier classes during my senior year. I’m just damn lucky there was no lasting damage from this boneheaded move.

ditto what @tranquilsea wrote.

That’s a fucking amazing story, @Mariah! Thanks for telling it! And thanks for telling it straight—not as a heroic tale and not as a cautionary tale. Just life.

Thanks @wundayatta. :)

@Mariah You never cease to amaze me!

@flutherother Thank you! With this particular story I think you should be amazed by my stupidity. Haha