Perfectionism Is A Disease July 27, 2008

My perfectionism seems to work three ways:

1. I set unreasonably high standards for myself.
2. I set unreasonably high standards for other people.
3. I believe others have extremely high standards for me.

Hence I am constantly judging myself, judging others, and thinking about how others are judging me.
 
Nothing I do is ever good enough. Nothing a significant other does is ever good enough. Because I am an exacting and unforgiving judge, we’re doomed from the start. No matter how hard we tried, we could never achieve the unrealistic standards of perfection that I demand.
 
When you’re so used to judging yourself and others so stringently, you become convinced that this is the way the world operates. In my mind others are just as demanding as I am, and I feel considerable pressure from them to surpass their expectations. They’re watching me, evaluating me and expecting the world of me. I fear they will lose respect for me if I fail them, so I push myself relentlessly to avoid humiliation and gain their approval.
 
But often the pressure from both within and outside gets to be so overwhelming that I feel as if I can’t keep on going. I’m easily burned out. Easily disappointed. Being a perfectionist takes a toll on you. So many failures, yet so few successes, if any. Each failure is a massive blow to the self-esteem, bringing you closer to hopelessness and despair. You work hard, but you achieve nothing. You’re just madly going around in circles in a pointless and miserable process.
 
Perfectionism is a vicious disease. It eats you. Poisons you. Confines you. Defeats you. I can’t tell you how badly I want to break free. Every second of my existence I can see it working in action, preventing me from achieving my true potential, alienating me from the people I love, draining the energy out of me and destroying my will to continue living in this world.
 
Whenever I take actions to curb the disease, it’s there, laughing in my face as it screams “I am you! You can never get past me! Whatever you do, it will be MY doing!” Whenever I try to do the right thing, it always turns out to be the wrong thing. I can’t seem to be able to run away from perfectionism. Whatever I do –every word I utter, every action I take, every thought I have– seems to fueled by the disease.
 
So I’ve decided to go back to therapy. Now that I have a real job with health insurance, I have no excuse. I want to get better. I want to fight this sickness. And at this point I really see no other way.

Always Too Much July 14, 2008

Boy have I seriously neglected this blog.
 
It’d take too long to explain where I’ve been or what I’ve done since May 3. Other than having a real job with benefits and a busy social calendar, my life actually isn’t all that different from what it was two months ago. I’m still obsessive. Still lonely. Still unhappy. And yes, I’m still good at whining.
 
After being rejected by a man I was obsessively pining for, I took up organizing meet^ups (local social networking events) as a hobby. It became a sort of outlet for my obsessive-compulsive tendencies, a way to channel my overzealous energies into something productive.
 
Naturally instead of deriving pleasure from the experience as other organizers do, I’ve obsessed over the whole thing a bit much, bringing upon myself more stress than is necessary. I know I’m the only one to blame for that. I’ve always had a knack for making things more difficult than they really are. I always want too much, do too much, push too much, worry too much.
 
Only a month into it and I’m already reaching the burnout stage. I’m sick of organizing meet^ups. It’s gotten to be too much. Unless I calm the fuck down and take it EASY, I doubt I could keep it going much longer. Sadly that goes for everything in my life. Work, relationships, blogging, trifles… You name it I obsess over it.
 
Unless I learn to chill out and stop taking everything so seriously, unless I learn not to make a MONUMENTAL deal out of everything, unless I learn to accept anything less than perfect, unless I learn to give myself a pat on the back for the good that I do and forgive myself for the not so good I do, unless I learn to loosen the grasp on every aspect of my life I am so fiercely adamant on exercising control over, then happiness will continue eluding me.

Called for First Interview Ever January 15, 2008

I have an interview… finally! My very first (official) interview ever. This one is for an administrative assistant position at an accounting/payroll company. I totally didn’t expect it to happen. I applied for the job last night while I was on a roll, mindlessly going through ads and applying for whatever I thought I might have a slight shot at. Who would have thought I’d be contacted?! Miracles do happen. 
 
What a boost to the self-esteem! Not to mention a much needed picker-upper. For two days I was sick and miserable with a nasty sinus infection, which finally got better today after I somehow managed to get rid of the monstrous-looking mucous plug that was fiercely stuck somewhere between the back of my nose and the top of my throat. (I can thank my unemployed homebound time, and massive consumption of warm tea, for such a quick recovery.) Now that I’ve got a job interview on the agenda, I feel almost as good as new!
 
Time to get out of gelatinous time mode and get cranking! My ex has graciously agreed to do a mock phone interview with me tonight. But first I’ve got to draw up every potential interview question I can find online and prepare solid answers for them. By the end of it I should have a pretty mighty compilation of interview questions and answers. Then I’m going to practice and try to memorize everything until I’ve got the whole act to a perfect T, from words to facial expressions, pauses to intonations (think Tilda Swinton’s character in the movie Michael Clayton).
 
This is how I used to prepare for speeches in school. I actually gave some surprisingly compelling speeches as a result of all this intense preparation. I looked so confident speaking that no one watching me could have guessed I had social anxiety. Hard to imagine, now that I’ve become a complete recluse, but true.
 
I am not going to care if I don’t actually get this job. For one thing I’m not crazy about it; it’s really just another administrative job among many. And then this will be my first interview, so it’s alright if I don’t nail it the first time around. I am going to view this interview as a learning and practice opportunity, a research experiment to conduct trials and gather data. I have to think of it as a no-lose situation so that I don’t get disappointed if I fail to achieve the desired results.
 
Of course, for the experiment to actually happen, I will have to pop a Xanax pill one hour beforehand…

On Top of the World December 25, 2007

It’s Christmas, but I’m going to the gym anyway. What a blessing my apartment building houses its own gym. I never have to worry about holiday closings. While people were gobbling down their turkey on Thanksgiving Day, I was sweating it off on the cross master. There are no holidays for the obsessive compulsive exerciser.
 
Since I changed my diet and started working out about two and a half months ago, my body’s gone from flab to fab. At the annual holiday gathering I attended on Saturday, a lot of people couldn’t recognize me. I wowed everyone with my makeover. People thought I had a star’s figure. Wow, a star’s figure. Near perfection.
 
I’m actually not quite there yet (though the outfit I wore may have made it seem like I was). At the rate I’m going I should be there eventually, though. By winter’s end, I’ll have a star’s bikini body (minus the boobs). And by year’s end, maybe I’ll have a fitness model’s body – not the ugly, bulky type, but the lean, toned kind. There’s nothing more amazing than goals that CAN be achieved.
 
I love how my hard work and my dedication are paying off. Seeing tangible results fuels my drive to go farther and farther. It’s in times like these that I feel my best. I feel like I’m on top of the world, in control of my life. Last year I was terribly depressed, ready to put an end to it all, because I had no reason to live, no reason to fight, no reason to hope.
 
What a huge difference it makes to have something to look forward to, something to live for. Envisioning the dream body I want and seeing it get closer and closer within my reach is what’s helping me keep going. To some it may be a stupid, shallow reason for living, but to me it means so much. Because I can exercise full control over some aspect of my existence, the world no longer seems like such a scary, hostile, impossible place to live in. In the bubble I live in, I reign queen.

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder December 3, 2007

Well, as the edit in this post explains, I’ve come to realize that I really don’t have narcissistic personality disorder after all. Obsessive compulsive personality disorder best describes my condition. (But I do have narcissistic traits.)
 
The DSM-IV defines OCPD as an individual having at least four of the following traits:
 
1. Preoccupation with details, rules, lists, order, organization, or schedules to the extent that the major point of the activity is lost
 
Yes. I get so caught up focusing on rules, routines, and details that I am unable to enjoy life. Activities become a tedious chore, a mandatory duty, a strict regimen, a complicated task rather something to be appreciated or done to gain pleasure.
 
2. Showing perfectionism that interferes with task completion (e.g., is unable to complete a project because his or her own overly strict standards are not met)
 
Yes. I am an underachiever as a result of my excessive perfectionism. I don’t finish tasks. I realize I can’t meet my lofty expectations, I become convinced I’m going to fail, so I give up. Sometimes I don’t even bother to do the tasks that should be done. As a result I don’t accomplish much of anything and go absolutely nowhere in life.
 
3. Excessive devotion to work and productivity to the exclusion of leisure activities and friendships (not accounted for by obvious economic necessity)
 
Yes and no. I have chosen very easy jobs that I know I can do perfectly. They’re so easy that very little devotion and productivity is required of them. I do this to minimize my levels of stress. However, I can be excessively devoted and passionate about hobbies (dancing, exercise, etc.) and significant others. They become the center of my existence and I neglect everything else in my life.
 
4. Being overconscientious, scrupulous, and inflexible about matters of morality, ethics, or values (not accounted for by cultural or religious identification)
 
Yes. I have very strong moral values to which I religiously abide. I am strongly opiniated about certain moral issues and ethics; opposing views irritate me greatly (you don’t want to argue with me - ever - about anything really. I can get quite nasty). I cannot be convinced of anything that’s against my values and beliefs. I stand firmly on what I believe in. Infidelity is one of those things I absolutely cannot stand. I have no respect, no mercy whatsoever for anyone who engages in infidelity no matter what the circumstances are. Furthermore I don’t lie, and I strive to stay true to my word.
 
5. Inability to discard worn-out or worthless objects even when they have no sentimental value
 
Well, I actually have the opposite problem. I like to constantly weed stuff out and I’ve made the mistake of getting rid of important stuff at work and at home. Useless excess is something I cannot live with. The less stuff there is, the better. My dream is to have a home as clutter-free and squeaky neat as those in those interior decorating magazines (sometimes you wonder how they live with so little stuff around, though). One day, hopefully soon, I’m going to go on a purging rampage in my entire place and keep only what is absolutely ESSENTIAL and USEFUL.
 
6. Reluctance to delegate tasks or to work with others unless they submit to exactly his or her way of doing things
 
Yes and no. I’ve never had to work with people (thank goodness), so I’ve never had to delegate or share work. I actually try to avoid challenges because I’m scared to death I won’t get them perfect; in these situations I think I’d gladly pass on the work to someone else. If it’s something I know I can do, however, I definitely will insist on doing it myself because I don’t trust people to be as meticulous and thorough as I can be (even though they’d probably be five times as efficient as I am in doing it).
 
At home I’m very particular about how I do things. For instance, after my mom’s put dishes in the dishwasher, I will remove everything and rearrange everything myself before running it. However, other tasks, like cleaning out the cat litter boxes, I won’t mind letting her do it because I don’t like dealing with poo (ugh!) As for cleaning the apartment, I also let her do it because she has strong OCPD tendencies and is extra super compulsive about cleaning (much much more so than I am). My mom cleans whenever she can, which means ALL THE TIME. Hey, I ain’t complaining, I love it neat and clean! It’s not often (though it happens) that I’d complain about her work or clean up after she’s cleaned – but she often whines about me not being clean enough (the irony).
 
7. Adopting a miserly spending style toward both self and others; money is viewed as something to be hoarded for future catastrophes
 
Yes and no. I’m a miser alright. I don’t like spending money. I’m the kind of person who’d flip out if she were charged an extra nickel, the kind of person who regularly goes on dumpster diving expeditions, the kind of person who orders a single appetizer when she’s out to dinner with people, the kind of person who’d stop speaking to her friend if she and her friends decided to split the restaurant bill evenly. Having said that, I don’t hoard all that much money for future catastrophes, though. I mean, I save, but I can never save nearly enough on my small income. If my income doubled, though, I’d spend the same amount (on living expenses) and save the rest, as if I were still on a small income.
 
8. Showing rigidity and stubbornness
 
Yes. Absolutely. I’m the most stubborn mule you’ll ever meet. And I can be so frigging rigid you’d want to smack my ass with a paddle so I could loosen up a bit.
 
9. Urge to perfect every little thing
 
Yes, that goes without saying. Perfectionism is the bane of my existence. Everything must be perfect, me, people, situations, things, etc. Hence the strong need for control. It’s quite stressful, consuming, and exhausting to live in such an imperfect world. I am chronically depressed and anxious because of this doomed-to-fail struggle.
 
——————————— 
 
I recently found a very supportive forum for people with OCPD. It’s been so nice to be surrounded by like-minded folks. In this OCPD-only forum, there is no bashing done. People are accepting and understanding because they are just like you! It’s so hard to find that kind of supportive environment with personality disorders, particularly the infamous ones like NPD, APD, BPD, HPD and OCPD that tend to cause damage to the people around them. It seems that in a lot of forums you go to (and websites, too), the victims of those personality disorders rally together to put you down and make you feel like you’re the worst piece of scum on earth (coming across this kind of thing actually makes you want to change your mind about finding support and trying to get better).
 
To belong to this OCPD-only forum, you have to sign up for the general one first. I’ve looked at the general one, but it really scares me. People can be so mean although it’s understandable that they would be – they’ve been badly hurt and this is their chance to vent, speak up, and find support in people in similar situations. Maybe one day I’ll be ready to read and participate in the general board, but right now I just need support and understanding among people like me. I feel so vulnerable, like I could so easily give up this sudden desire to improve.
 
Being aware that you’ve got a problem is the first step. I’ve done that. Being aware of the specific thoughts and behaviors that are part of the disorder is the next step. I’ve done that, too. I’ve even gone so far as to catch myself in the act of saying something that shouldn’t have been said to someone and then stopping right in my tracks. It’s so frustrating because it seems everything I say is wrong. 
 
That’s why I feel like the safest bet is to just shut up and withdraw. If they can’t see me, can’t deal with me, I can’t hurt anyone, can I? I mean, I really don’t want to hurt anyone; I just can’t help it. Fortunately my recent ex knows that, that I’m not all bad and that there is a lot of good in me (some of which I can’t even see), and he is incredibly supportive of me (despite of everything I put him through while we were together), which is so wonderful and so helpful.

Aging November 30, 2007

Every year I look forward to my birthday. Every year except this one.
 
When I was 19 years old, 28 seemed so ancient. Yet here I am now, just two days away from it. I can’t believe it’s knocking on my door already. I can’t believe I’m about to officially enter the late 20s demographic. 
 
The degenerative process has already started for me. With my one grey hair, my brittle, peeling skin, and my pronounced laugh lines, which make me regret ever smiling, I definitely can’t pass for a 25-year old anymore. Even with the short cutsie haircut I got yesterday I still look prematurely old from up close.
 
To think that the aging wheel is only going to go downhill faster from here onwards … it’s really quite depressing. No wonder models, dancers, and actresses have trouble dealing with it. No wonder they turn to anti-wrinkles creams, laser treatment, and botox. They don’t want to lose their face, which is not just their product and their livehood, but their identity as well.
 
Sooner or later I may have to remove or cover up all the mirrors in my home. I don’t want to see the growing damage. I’m just too scared. I really don’t have anything to offer to the world except my face (or what’s left of it). Once that’s totally gone, you might as well toss me to the garbage with the old banana peels.
 
I give myself five years tops until my youth is fully obsolete and no man my age (with decent taste) will look at me without screaming “old!”
 
Once you’re old, the quest for beauty is futile. You can’t beat nature. You have no choice but to let the decay run its course. When I get to that point, I don’t know what I’ll do besides going bonkers. Being unable to do anything to attain physical perfection will surely kill me.
 
I guess if I had one birthday wish this year and every other year after this one, it would be to never see myself old.

I Must Do Everything I Can To Blog Every Day November 29, 2007

If I’m lucky, maybe three people read this blog on a regular basis. Yet, I feel the need to update this blog every day. When I don’t, I feel ashamed. As if I were letting those three faithful people down for not ”delivering.” As if I were a rotten blogger for not doing my job as I should. (Um, isn’t my life just full of shoulds, don’ts, and musts?)
 
Chances are nobody actually gives a cahoot if I write once a day or once a month. It’s not like what I write is all that interesting, useful, or fun. It’s not like traffic here is bursting through the roof. It’s not like I get paid to do this. It’s not like I’m trying to impress a hot crush (let’s face it, he won’t be impressed by my neurotic tendencies).
 
But I care. I care a lot. Perhaps too much. 
 
I feel like as long as the outside world has access to my blog I need to make sure that this space of mine, which is really a reflection of who I am, is well kept like a carefully tended garden. Nobody likes to walk into disorganized, sloppy chaos – at least, I don’t. What I say here may not be to many a person’s liking, but it doesn’t really matter as long as whoever stumbles upon my blog, whether it be that lost, troubled soul who’s looking for a kindred spirit or one of those three faithful readers, can see I’ve put meticulous thought and effort into this endeavour.
 
And thought and effort I sure do put into this! Blogging’s like having a part-time job I’m so extremely inefficient at that no one in their right mind would pay me hourly to do it. As an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist I can (and do!) spend HOURS on a single post. Because blogging is such a colossal task for me, it can get quite daunting to tackle it every day (not an excuse, I’m just stating the facts). 
 
But I don’t have much of a life - since the quest for perfection pretty much fills up my days - so here I am!

Food Diary #7 – Discipline Is Key November 22, 2007

I am feeling dreadfully guilty because I ate a little tube of M&Ms today while I was at the movie theater with my mother. My mom had this kid’s tray that came with soda, popcorn, and candy. Since she only wanted the soda and the popcorn, she gave me the candy and foolishly I accepted it. What a fool I was indeed.
 
Now that it’s somewhere in my belly, probably getting absorbed as fat, guilt is hanging over me like a millstone over my neck. Though I’ve already exercised this morning, I am half tempted to exercise again to burn the enemy down. Go away, you filth, get away from me!
 
How could I have been so stupid? Where was my discipline? Considering today is eat-your-heart-out day in this land of the fat I live in, I behaved surprisingly well at lunch. All I had was a moderate portion of turkey, green beans, grated carrots, and brown rice with just a square of dark chocolate for dessert.
 
So why, goddammit, did I have to eat these M&Ms? I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t need them. Every once in a while I don’t mind eating a couple of small scoops of slow churned ice cream. Eating candy, however, is big no-no for me, the worst offense, the ultimate sin. It just reminds me of the sugar addiction days of old when I had no self-control whatsoever, no discipline. I don’t want to go back to being that person anymore, that loser, that girl of no self-respect. I’ve worked too hard to get this far. I simply can’t let myself go again.
 
DISCIPLINE. That’s really all it takes to lose weight and keep it off. It’s not that difficult, but only a matter of setting down the law for yourself and following it NO MATTER WHAT. I mean, most of us have no trouble following the laws other people have set for us. Setting rules and laws for ourselves for our own self benefit should be a piece of cake next to that.
 
And let me tell you something. It is. When you put discipline first and foremost above all things, it’s really not that hard to say no to bad foods, bad habits, bad judgments. So why then did I not say no today? I thought what the heck, today’s a holiday. I thought this can’t hurt me, not just this one time, this small thing. But the truth of the matter is that it IS a big deal. I broke the law. My own law. And I deserve punishment.
 
The fairest punishment I can think of, other than to exercise harder tomorrow, is to eat a very small dinner to make up for those unnecessary calories. Only when I know that there are consequences to my actions will I be able to achieve and maintain discipline. Only when I have achieved discipline will I be a true master of myself. And that, my friends, is of quintessential importance to get that perfect body of my dreams.

Exercise Diary #6 – I Must Exercise As Often and As Hard I Can November 12, 2007

I’ve been exercising practically every day in a very intense fashion. I have become so obsessed with exercise that it has become the center of my existence.
 
Is exercise replacing the void once filled by my ex, I wonder?
 
—————– 
 
I feel the need to exercise as often and as hard I can because …
 
A healthy diet is worthless without exercise
 
I’m terribly bored and don’t know what else to do
 
Exercise distracts me from my negative thoughts
 
Exercise makes me forget how lonely I am (while I’m doing it)
 
Exercise helps me think more clearly
 
Exercise gives me a much needed boost of energy
 
Exercise gives me the control and power to change the way I look
 
Exercise gives me a sense of purpose in life
 
I need a strong point of focus in my life to keep myself together
 
I need to feel PASSION about something
 
I need to give my entire body, heart, mind and soul to something in order to feel alive
 
I’m hurting inside and exercise makes me feel better afterwards 
 
Pushing my body as far it will go makes me feel high
 
Riding on the high that comes with intense exercise makes me feel powerful
 
The soreness that comes the day after I exercise feels good
 
I (still) don’t like the way I look
 
I want faster, more immediate results 
 
I am ready to sacrifice everything to achieve the dream body I desperately want
 
I want to show others that I can accomplish this
 
I can’t wait to impress people with my new super fit, super toned figure
 
I want to show to this girl I am jealous of (who hasn’t seen me for years) that I (still) look twice as good as she does (she used to be fat, but now she looks thin and fit)
 
If I don’t exercise I feel terribly guilty
 
If I don’t exercise I feel like a failure
 
If I don’t exercise I feel worthless and empty
 
If I don’t exercise all my efforts will have been in vain
 
If I don’t exercise those who know I’ve embarked on this mission will laugh at me for not following through with my plans and goals
 
And if I can’t succeed in accomplishing my goals, I’ll never be able to show my face again to people who knew me back when I was still thin and beautiful

The Quest for Beauty November 8, 2007

Six years ago, I was what people considered stunning. My looks (not to mention my dancing) made me popular in the dance circle I associated with. Back then I was young, I was thin, I was fit, I was beautiful, I was stylish, I was hip. Admired by many, I stood in the circle’s limelight and I loved every minute of it.
 
Fast forward to three years later when I began my gradual descent into fugliness and nothingness. I no longer belonged to a circle in which potential admirers were to be had; hence the need to impress was gone and with it went the motivation to look good. Feeling worthless, I sunk into a spiraling depression and stopped taking care of myself. Why bother, I thought? No one cares what I look like.
 
I couldn’t go back to the dancing circle because I had been away from it much too long. All this time my peers had been toiling away on their dancing. If I returned, I knew they would be at a far higher level of dancing than I was. I couldn’t take the humiliation associated with being of a lower status, so I never dared show my face to them again.
 
The more unattractive I became, the more difficult it was to look at myself in the mirror. It hurt to think back to the glory and the beauty of my lost youth. There I was at age 27, already old, fat, ugly, pathetic, and undesirable. I was both disgusted and angry with myself for reaching such lows, but I was too depressed and hopeless to dig myself out of my self-inflicted misery.
 
Last mid-August I broke up with my boyfriend of nearly three years. Though I spent a month grieving over him, I recovered relatively quickly. Then three weeks ago, out of the blue, I made the decision to turn my life around and get my looks back. I thought that if I were pretty again, maybe people would notice me and think that I was pretty. Determined to change the public opinion of me (with the hope that it would raise my self-esteem), I embarked on a quest to lose weight, get fit, and look my absolute best.
 
Since then I’ve made leaps and bounds. Much to my excitement, I look noticeably thinner and younger. Still I am not happy. There’s so much more to be done. Physical perfection (or close to it) must be attained for people to take notice. I’m not looking for a man; that is not the purpose of all this. I just want people to look at me and honestly think I’m beautiful – not cute as a button, but truly beautiful. And I want them to tell me so so that I may then go home, look at myself in the mirror, and say, “yes, indeed I am beautiful.”
 
Only then will my efforts not be in vain. Only then will I fully be satisfied.