It’s been over a month now, that I’ve been sitting and staring at
a blank page and all I get is blah! I feel like Blankman’s girlfriend……………I think I must have writers block.
Then I realized….
….I
am definitely not a writer and I’m rather grateful for spell check. I am not a foodie or writer of recipes, except
I know I love to eat. However I have my moments when I feel like Ratatouille when
he tries to explain to chubby grubby brother what it’s like is mix two different
flovours and you end up making one magical flovour.
Yes I really understood how he felt…….
I am not of a medical
profession but what I know comes from others, reading, my own experience and
now google. I am definitely not a health or fitness expert and I take rather
average photos. I love to paint but I’m
no Vincent van Gogh(though didn’t he have temporal lobe epilepsy as well).
When I started writing, I didn’t know where I was going with this,
but when I read it again it felt like I was complaining or whining about myself,
then trying to pat myself on the back.
Hmmmmmm what is wrong with us. I’ve notice this in many a woman
over the years, as I deal with number of woman on a daily bases. We want things to be perfect or what we think
perfection is. We can never be satisfied about the things we’ve done or
accomplished. There always seems to be a
fault hiding somewhere that only we seem to notice.
(Why I am not pretty enough, not thin enough. Why don’t I have
bigger breast. I want to be blond, no I wish I was a brunette. Why didn’t I
accomplish x by this date, time or age… why doesn’t he love me(er..because you
don’t love yourself)…. The list does go on and on. And I’ve truly heard it all.)
Always looking for imperfection
Now I really do love to
paint but I’m sure I've been driving my
art teacher batty. I’m always trying to get things picture perfect. If I don’t,
then I’m annoyed with the world. And my
teacher always has to remind me “ it’s a painting not a photograph and perception
is different for anyone.” I am generally like this with everything I do in
life, I get annoyed, then frustrated
with myself then I start getting anxious. I get I mixture of knots and
butterflies in my gut. And I can’t seem to eat or I eat junk.
I seem to have had this behavior since I was a kid, according to
my mom. My clothes, underwear, socks and shoes had to match at all time. And I
never liked my clothes been dirty even though I liked playing in the dirt. I
now realize, for me it’s this crazy behavior of perfection that causes me to
have anxiety attacks. If I look back at all the problems I’ve had, from an ulcer
at 16 to my epilepsy , one of the underlining causes are stress and/or anxiety.
I’m not saying anxiety over perfection caused
every problem I have, but have noticed the pattern. And for me there is no denying
it.
PERFECTION IS A MATTER OF PERSECPTION. This is what I come to
strongly believe. If you believe you’re a terrible cook you will always be one.
I believe the word perfect should be redundant. There is no such
thing…………..
