While meditating yesterday morning, the strive for perfection came to mind. In November 2019, at the peak of my existential crisis, I went to see a behavioural psychologist, recommended by a friend who had seen a friend being consulted successfully by this woman. And during one of the 4 sessions I did, she told me about perfectionism. I had never thought of it as of a “condition”. I just googled it and the first site that comes up is Good Therapy (never heard of that before), where perfectionism is considered a positive trait in one’s personality, but it can cause destructiveness because we never think we are doing well enough. Wikipedia writes: “Perfectionism, in psychology, is a personality trait characterized by a person’s striving for flawlessness and setting high performance standards, accompanied by critical self-evaluations and concerns regarding others’ evaluations. […] In its maladaptive form, perfectionism drives people to attempt to achieve unattainable ideals or unrealistic goals, often leading to depression and low self-esteem.” Then the Google search was suggesting searching for the word “procrastination”, that other people have also searched when looking up “perfectionism”.

Wow, I never thought of looking online for a definition of perfectionism. All of the above is spot on me. And so I was thinking, while meditating, that striving for perfection has been a constant motive for my growing depression over the years. Too bad I didn’t consult a specialist back 10 years ago, or 15. I could have maybe spared myself lots of grieving in the past 4 years. Or was the grieving a necessary step? This I will never know. It all happened and I am dealing with it now. No chance to go back in the past, that is for sure, it’s the only certainty we have, beside for the certainty that one day we will die. So between the day we are born and the day we die, a lot of things happen, and we deal with them, one way or another. Life is beautiful, exciting, dramatic, sentimental, rational, evil, compassionate, selfish and selfless. All is in me, and I feel it now, as I am trying hard to not put labels of morality judgment to what I have experienced.

Back to perfectionism, it is one of the elements of my life that I am now observing from distance, using exactly the same method I use while meditating: breathe in, breathe out, observe the thought coming through, don’t clench to it, let it go again, and keep breathing. It is such a rejuvenating experience, this meditation. Had you asked me to meditate in November (which I tried by the way), I would have said ” no chance”. I was simply too distressed, too anxious, too sad, too depressed and desperate to even remotely accept to sit for 30 minutes, or even 5 minutes, doing nothing else but breathe. When I tried in November and December several times, my thoughts were so pèowerful over me that I was overwhelmed by them and the only way to not feel worse than I already felt, was to stop meditating. Meditating meant being too much with myself, and I hated to be with myself.

M., the behavioural psychologist, noticed that I was too deep down in my chasm to help me get up by working purely on a shift in my behaviour. I was simply not ready. She recommended I go to a Psychiatrist and get medical help. My mother is the one who insisted, when she came to visit me in November. I was crying every day, despite her company and love, nothing was useful to make me feel better. I was so miserable, so miserable I can’t even think about it without feeling sad again. So, please forgive me if I won’t recollect those thoughts yet. I feel much better now, really good actually, and want to enjoy this process. I will gather my courage and when I am ready to speak about the darkest moments of my life, you will be the first to know.

Stay safe, take care.

Note to self: I need to speak about Procrastination.