It happened years ago.
I’m not exactly sure when, but I wasn’t paying attention and then it happened. I was picked; chosen, tagged and forever plagued with the curse of perfectionism.
I know what you must be thinking. It can’t really be that terrible. You must be exaggerating. Except I’m not. I spend countless hours poring over the chapters I write, trying to win the battle against my perfectionism. Even as I write this post, it is taking much longer than I intended, simply because of perfectionist doubt.
On one hand it annoys me. I often wonder, why can’t I be the person whom doesn’t care? Then my brain laughs at me and I remember, I can never be that person because perfectionism is a part of the creative process. It’s a sucky part, but a part none the less. Without it, you can spiral into procrastination. Once you hit that button, it takes the jaws of life to pry your fingers off. I’m still trying to lift my superglued thumbs.
This feeling of perfection can fuel the drive to do more, which leads to negative thoughts of thinking that you are less. While it sucks to sometimes glance at your agenda and only highlight the unchecked items, it motivates you for next day. Keeping in mind that not accomplishing tasks O-Z is just as important as finishing tasks A-N.
I reflect on the bigger picture. Remembering that a book is not always written in a day. It takes one word, which leads to many, to create a sentence that makes a paragraph to build a book.
If all else fails, I’ll read the quote in the frame on my office wall, as my head dramatically flops on my desk.
“Oh, I can’t think about that today! I’ll just go crazy if I do! I’ll think about it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day!”
Frankly, my dear Scarlett O’Hara, I do give a damn and yes, it is.