Perfection

I remember in college, whenever I would drive somewhere long distance, I had to get the directions completely right. If I ended up missing a turn in some small town along the way, I would be furious. It didn't matter if I was losing only two minutes, I could longer complete the journey perfectly. I would scream in frustration, cursing myself, or the map, or the signs. It didn't matter. I was overwhelmed with frustration because I had failed.

I don't know how long it took me to realize that was an unreasonable reaction. I know it took even longer to realize why I was frustrated or how it projected to the rest of my life.

It manifested itself while I was driving because I was alone. I scream a lot when I'm alone. I do not scream around others. I was always hyperaware of who might be watching or listening. I am less conscious of it now, or at least I don't let it hinder me as often. My defense mechanism as a child was to remain emotionless and unexpressive - hide away, go unnoticed. So it was incredibly rare for me to be myself unless I was by myself. When I was by myself, I evidently had a little tension to release, as if it's unhealthy to never express opinions or emotions to others or something.

Now I am far more expressive. I have this pressing need to be friends with everything human I come in contact with, and I am far more aware of the times I clam up and return to my old, fearful, unemotional (sometimes confused as stoic) self. I still, however, will not yell at others. (I may, however, tell them off in an email :) ) That's a direct reaction to being terrified of my father's yelling as a child and not wanting to do that to anyone else. I don't think that's so bad and I do express frustration with people, usually after thinking over how to say it for a good while. Watch out, maybe someday I will yell at you.

Of course, over many things I am stoic and unaffected. Some things that have a huge emotional effect on some people don't faze me in the least. But let's not cloud the matter. I certainly know when something bothers me, and those are the things I work to address. (That, and trying to be my strange, nonsensical self who likes to quote movies and talk in terrible accents more often around others)

But back to the road of life. Whether expressed or not, I've often approached my destiny as something that must be walked with perfection. Any misstep ruins it all. I've ruined it all a bunch of times, but not only have I ruined paths in life, I have also avoided them. My decision making has been skewed because my brain has told me I must know for sure it is the right decision before I make it. This has led to some serious hesitation in many areas of life and God only knows how many missed opportunities.

Of course, destiny be definition is not controlled by me, and it's irrelevant what I do. If it's destiny, it'll come. My concern then, is only how I conduct myself, and this need to be perfect hampers me because it is mixed with an improper view of destiny.

I had an obsession over my calling when I was younger. Well duh, if I knew what I was supposed to do I had a chance to execute it to perfection. If I didn't even know the calling, I was pretty screwed and horribly frustrated.

I didn't know the calling. Oh, but often I thought I did. I thought it was this. And then that. And then that. And then this again.

I pretend that I've stopped that, but anyone who knows me knows the vagabond that I have been. Some of my journey's have been necessary, but I know the ones that involved me running or chasing a new potential “proper course”. Oh and the screaming I have done when I've had to change direction. And oh how I've taxed my mind while feverishly attempting to accomplish everything possible to speed my course.

Ah, but an interesting thing about depression is it stops you. You cannot function. The perfectionist can have a goal, a course he thinks he's supposed to be fulfilling, and depression will make it so he can't physically(or mentally) go through with it. From certain viewpoints(his own), he has become entirely worthless.

If you're me, you scream at God and try to negotiate your way out of depression so that you can be of some use to Him. Somewhere in there, you find out that what He sees as useful is so completely different from what you see. And then I guess you just stare in awe, cause you don't know nothing.

Then maybe you start to learn to trust. And when you think you've got it figured out, some new layer of misguidance gets stripped away. Somewhere in there you figure out you'll never figure IT out. You'll make progress. You'll learned a few things. You'll be far more expressive and less afraid. You'll stop worrying about how many layers need to be stripped off of this thing. You'll just focus on the one you are on, hopefully not getting too arrogant when you've moved past it and instead patiently waiting for the next thing to knock you off course. Then you take it in stride or let it change your stride, whatever the day may bring.

I don't really care if I get lost while driving anymore. Maybe I think a wrong turn will lead to something of value. Maybe I relish the idea of not being perfect but still being able to get to my destination.