Word Vomit: Perfectionism

I am ill with the need to be perfect.

The 2 AM calls to action just leads me to self loathing and more procrastination.

I am always thinking about how I can be better instead of just embracing the fact that I am 18 and that is such an exciting time to figure out what I want, what I love, and how I want to enjoy life.

The ease with which I slip into perfection contradicts every single one of my ideals.

I desperately want to be a good writer. I was reading an article today about how the “good” writers don’t give up and work their butt off to be good writers. This terrifies me. I am the typical writer who writes when inspiration strikes rather than when the work bell rings.

Instead of this leading me to despair, I have decided that I want this. I want it and I need it, and I am going to have to get working in order to get it.

When I was growing up, the emphasis and definition of suscess often revolved around college and career and 8-5. I always felt as if I had to perform or entertain or have the best story to hold their attention and ultimately have their love. It was not until recently that I have realized that most of my failures and issues are a result of this performance driven attitude toward life. I want to be perfect and have the perfect body type, therefore I starved myself. I wanted their attention and craved their comments; I was starving for affection and apples.

I wanted to be admired for my intellect, wisdom, and unique nature. Even though I was I didn’t consider it enough. I spiral into depression every time I am called into question. The absolute need is unhealthy at best and crippling at worst. The mental disorders I am going through often embarress me and I hide them. The worst is when I hide them from myself.

Self deception. I have it all figured out. I am eighteen and living on my own and have gotten over these disorders and have overcome my insecurities. The most dangerous lies of all are these. I have not gotten over them but rather suppressed them. It is at the heart of these issues that I find my biggest sin: pride.

The snake that envelops my heart as fallen away, yet it is within my heart that the Father is revealing the deepest sins.

Beauty (free writing)

God is beauty. We are the beast.

What do we see when we look at a person? Maybe, that is the correct question instead of the peculiar feeling that we must see God to believe in Him. When we look at someone else, do we see an outfit? Or clothes? Or nails, or a purse or something materialistic? If I were to see someone on the street in need, I might go to them, might. But at the same time, I may just judge them. Beauty lies in a kind heart: to act justly, love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. I feel as if I’ve been focusing on beauty that could never compare to God’s beauty planned for me, but which I felt would be an adequate substitute. I am the angry conspriacy theorist, however I am also the materialistic one. I focus on what others will think instead of what God will think. I seem to fail, and fail, and fail. I do not end up trusting in Him, but try to go my own way. I pray that when I fall this time, I will depend on God to pull me back up.