Paralysis of Perfectionsism

I have heard the phrase "practice makes perfect" more times than I care to mention. I played the viola for many years growing up and I can assure you, this is not true. I swam for many years and had the same experience. I studied diligently and came up short as well. There were external forces pushing me along, but after a while I internalized those forces. First-borns are typically known for their type A personality; hard-driving, outgoing, competitive. Those traits could be considered a checklist for me. 

It was in fifth grade that I really remember this drive betraying me. I loved Mrs. Kanas, my fifth-grade teacher. She had salt-and-pepper hair, glasses and a wonderfully calm spirit. I enjoyed fifth grade and got very good grades. On one of my report cards, though, I received an A-. Up to that point, I had received all A+s. When I saw that I received an A-, I was devastated. I don't mean that I was bummed out and thought, "well, that's okay, I'll try harder next time." I mean, Mrs. Kanas had to take me into the hall because I was inconsolable. I had spilled milk that morning at the breakfast table and my dad had yelled at me. My tears were caused by both incidents, but make no mistake, it was a lot of emotion over such a small thing. 

I measured (measure) my success by my grades. In school, it was the letter grade that drove me. I was fortunate that school came pretty easy to me. I have always had a love of learning that singled me out as a nerd. I wasn't even a cool nerd who ran with other nerds. I was in a small subset of nerds who was smart and enthusiastic about learning. The subset only contained me. I think because school came so easy to me, I hated when I didn't understand something. My junior year in high school, I took a physics class. It was painful. My teacher, Mr. Saiz, was a great man and a wonderful teacher. He was incredibly patient and I spent a lot of time in his office, asking for extra help. I cried a lot that year, both in that classroom and at home. I got so frustrated that I couldn't make sense of the concepts. I struggled to understand things that seemed to come easy to my classmates. The harder I tried, the more baffled I seemed. I think I still managed a B in that class, but only because I did all available extra credit and homework assignment Mr. Saiz gave me. 

I am by nature a creative person. When I go to stores like Michael's and Hobby Lobby, I see lots of potential. In high school, when I started earning my own money, I would go and buy things with the intention of starting a new hobby. I bought beads because I was going to make jewelry. I bought yarn because I was going to knit. I tried my hand at sewing for a bit. Unfortunately, my hobby became collecting unfinished craft projects. You see, I get started on something, try it for a while and then get bored. I started scrapbooking several years with much gusto. I produced a few beautiful scrapbooks, but now mostly everything sits in the office gathering dust. 

So it seems like I'm long on inspiration and short on follow-through. I wouldn't have normally classified this as perfectionism, but I had an epiphany a few years ago. If I stop doing something because I'm worried it might not be perfect, that's perfectionism. If I procrastinate because I know the results aren't what I want them to be, that's perfectionism. I don't scrapbook because other people's work is so much more beautiful. That's perfectionism. I don't try harder at things because what's the point, I won't be perfect.

It's a tricky thing, honestly. I have taught myself not to visit craft stores unless I have a clear objective. To my credit, I haven't purchased anything related to scrapbooking in a few years. I was able to make a beautiful Mother's Day album for my mother-in-law two years ago. I was working on one for my mom, but now it's sitting on top of the cabinet in my office, only halfway finished. I was showing Bekah one of my scrapbooks the other day and realized I have not scrapbooked anything about her.

I discovered a website (at the suggestion of a friend) a few years ago. It's www.flylady.net. The author of that site talks about how years of perfectionism prevented her from living a full life. She outlines a program one can use to baby step their way to a clean house and less cluttered life. There is a lot of encouragement on the site for people like me, who think, "well I'll clean tomorrow" or "why should I clean the floor if the kids are just going to walk on it?" I have to admit, I've started her 28-day program in dribs and drabs. And she says that's okay. She says that she doesn't want me to think that I'm behind; just jump in where I'm at.

I want to start her program again. I need the structure. I have struggled this summer to find a rhythm to my daily activities. Admittedly, I've been staying up too late, sleeping too late and generally not taking good care of my house, my body or my family. I have discovered that, as a recovering perfectionist, I need to have a to-do list. I am learning that it's okay to not have everything checked off every day, but at least it's in front of me, ready for me to face it.

I want to start scrapbooking again. I have been paralyzed with the sense that I have to work chronologically. Right now, I've scrapbooked about Jeremy's birth and first bath. He is going to turn 5 in about a month. I can't hope to have every event in his life catalogued by then, but I can start slowly, 15 minutes at a time (FLY Lady's suggestion), to get pictures put onto pages, pages put into albums. It doesn't matter if someone else can do it better; my kids will not be reviewing the scrapbook side-by-side with other scrapbooks. There is not an international judging committee looking over my shoulder.

I want to live in a house that is not so noisy with clutter. I am typing this blog entry while sitting at a desk covered in paper, garbage and randomness (including a tube of chapstick, an outlet cover, a failed craft experiment, an empty Edith Piaf CD case, my phone and Jeremy's evaluation form from preschool. I don't think I need to pass the white-glove test if I'm just sitting here, but there is something to the idea that a neat home promotes harmony.

I am going to do something I wouldn't normally do. I am going to take pictures of my home as it is now and post them on this blog. I am not going to photo shop or otherwise alter them. I am going to show the nitty gritty, the down and dirty truth. Then, I am committing to undertaking a recovery program for my perfectionism. I will, to the best of my ability, follow FLY Lady's program for a month. I will take her suggestions and integrate them into my daily routine. Then, on September 6th, I will take pictures again. We'll see how far I've gotten in breeding harmony at 1749 Copperfield Lane.

My previous attempts at this have failed for many reasons, chief among them that all members of the house do not participate. I will not let that be my stumbling block this time. Regardless of the help I receive, I will take these measures on my own. I am going to do my best. I am not going to fret over the hiccups I have in completing my goal; rather, I'm going to let those hiccups propel me to try again. Cause, really, the phrase should be, "practice makes better." And that's where I'm aiming.