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12:50 pm - Sat 5/18/02 I planned on washing the car this morning. I went down to the do-it-yourself place on 3rd, but when I got there, there was a car in each of the four "bays", and another car waiting behind each car being washed, so I turned around and went home. When I got home, I decided to at least attend to the bird crap that was on the car--A bigger issue here than back in Lansing--so I got a roll of paper towels and a rarely-used spray bottle of Formula 409 and went to work. I ended up giving the whole car a once over (It struck me that it was so "labor-intensive", it might have been quicker just to wait my turn at the do-it-yourself place). This is not a new thought with me--Doesn't seem like I'm having a lot of "new thoughts" anymore--but all this effort made me think again about how I'm really a "failed perfectionist". I don't imagine a lot of people know that about me (Jane may be the only one). If you'd ever seen my apartment back in Lansing--Or my current apartment, for that matter--"perfectionist" is probably not the first word that would leap to mind. Similarly, if you'd ever given me some task to accomplish, and seen me visibly unhappy and uncomfortable just at the thought of doing whatever-it-was, "He's quite the perfectionist" would probably not be your first thought. But I am. The "failed" part comes because my perfectionist tendencies leave me afraid to try new things, to learn new skills. I approach a task, and maybe even take a good crack at it, but when I realize I don't know how to do it right, or when I realize I don't have the energy to do it right (Which reminds me--I have news about my sleep apnea), I get frustrated and overwhelmed and give up. Worse still, I end up avoiding doing things, because I don't want to feel that failure and frustration. I live like a pig because I can't ever make it right, and I've given up trying. I don't know how to do it right. I don't have the energy to do it the way I know it's supposed to be done. And if someone else is giving me the task, I'm afraid I'm going to fail, which is a particularly irrational fear at the bookstore, because there's nothing anyone's going to assign me to do there that I won't be able to accomplish (But the fear persists, nevertheless). I think this bleeds into just about every aspect of my life. In an effort to battle my birthday/post-birthday blues, I was telling myself, as I do after every birthday, "Jim, you don't do anything for anyone else's birthday, so the fact that anyone acknowledges yours in any way is something to be profoundly grateful for". And it's very true. I had people call me, e-mail me, send me gifts. Acknowledge me. I didn't have anyone here, but it's not as my birthday went unnoticed. So then I asked myself, "Jim, why don't you ever acknowledge other people's birthdays? And while I think there are more reasons for that than I have time to get into right now (An example? Giving something back to others would indicate I was a full-fledged person and not the needy child I secretly perceive myself to be), one reason is "the perfectionist thing"; I can't "do it right", so I don't do it at all. Crazy, isn't it? Logically, I know all people would like from me is acknowledgement--"Hey, I remembered it was your birthday, and am glad you were born"-- but for me, I feel stupid just sending a card (It's fraught with peril, you see, because the card might suck, and/or I won't know what to say. As if every word I put to paper has to have the weight-of-the-world on it). And I don't have the money, the means, the creativity, the empathy, what-have-you, to do anything better. And if I can't do it right... This attitude even infects Diaryland itself. I'm moving towards 400 entries in here, so obviously something keeps me going, but I think I'd find it a more enjoyable experience, and it would maybe be even a more "authentic" experience for my "audience", if I was a little less concerned with getting everything "just so". Cause that effort is doomed to failure anyway. Well, more on the scary space inside my head at a later date. Right now, it's off to work I go...
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