Confessions Of A Closet Perfectionist

I have a tendency to be what you might call an over-achiever.  I like to make lists upon lists of things to do.  A typical day's list might include walking my dogs, going to the gym, working on my blog, finally tending to the piles of unfinished laundry that litter my bedroom floor, stopping by the grocery store and the post office, catching up on a few chapters in whatever book I'm currently reading, teaching myself to play a new song on the guitar (and I don't even know how to play the guitar) -  and all of this on top of a busy work day!  


To an outside observer that might sound like a wonderful quality because presumably I'd get a lot of things done.  In reality what ends up happening is that I cross a couple things off my to-do list and then, instead of feeling good about what I accomplished, I end up beating myself up for the things I didn't get around to.  I do try to allow myself time now and then to relax and read a magazine or to get caught up in a Bethenny Ever After marathon (one of my current favorites), yet even when I'm 'relaxing' I'm frequently working on something else, mentally reviewing my to-do lists or creating even more lists in my head.  It's never ending.  

P has referenced my perfectionistic side more than a few times in past sessions and although I have never really warmed up to the notion of myself as a perfectionist (did I mention the piles of unfinished laundry?) I do see her point. This little habit of mine leaves me constantly scrambling to eradicate my to-do list but in reality there is always going to be something else that needs to be done, one more thing to add to the list.   The end result is that I wind up perpetually striving yet always falling short.

Over the past couple weeks, P had asked me to reflect on some of the changes I'd been noticing in my life since beginning therapy and it didn't take long for me to compile a list:  Since starting therapy I've noticed that I experience less of what I refer to as 'mind chatter' (the constant nagging voice in my head).  I also no longer feel like I have to plan every second of every day.  I'm noticing less anxiety at work and in general.  Mundane tasks have become less annoying and even my drive to and from work doesn't seem quite as aggravating.  I'm even finding myself able to relax just a little bit more.  And perhaps most noteably: I'm not making as many lists.  In fact, as I was going about my week reflecting on changes and feeling relaxed I also noticed that miraculously things were getting done with relatively little effort on my part.  (Without my lists? Nonsense!)  

As I pondered this phenomenon I was reminded of an analogy that my best friend told me about a couple of months ago.  Imagine you have several large pebbles and a couple pints or so of sand that you're trying to fit into a modest-sized vase.  If you pour all of the sand in first and then try to stuff pebbles in there won't be enough room for everything.  But if you place the pebbles in first and then pour the sand in letting it filter in and around all of the pebbles it's a much easier fit.  It's an interesting parallel that could probably mean a lot of different things to different people but essentially the pebbles represent your priorities in life (spending time with friends or family, having enough personal time) and the sand represents all of the small, and often necessary, but tedious things in life (doing laundry, running errands, even worries and anxiety) that tend to consume so much of our time and attention. 

Last week in therapy I shared the pebbles and sand in a vase analogy with P and I told her how I'd found it helpful to conjure this image when I felt stressed.  Instead of becoming overwhelmed with my lists of things I'd like to accomplish, if I was able to make just one or two big things a priority, it seemed much easier to fit in all of the small things (and the things that I didn't get around to probably weren't that important in the first place).  If I'm able to focus on my priorities first then not only can I tackle the smaller things with more gusto but I also feel better because I was able to get the most important things accomplished and in turn, I feel more relaxed.  And you can apply this principle to multiple areas of life: prioritizing at work, prioritizing your free time and yes, even tackling to-do lists.  

Always keeping the big picture in mind, P asked me how this notion might impact me in the future, particularly when it comes to relationships.  At first I was a little thrown by her question and I strained to make a connection but now I wonder if perhaps I've been treating my relationships like one giant to-do list.  I try to check off all of the things that seem right but in the end it's all of the little things that keep getting me bogged down.  Maybe in my next relationship if I'm able to focus on a couple big elements instead of worrying about all of the little things then it might all eventually fall into place.  And I'll probably be able to relax more and actually enjoy it for what it is instead of beating it up for all the things that it isn't. 


Now don't get me wrong, I'm not implying that I should have to settle for less than extraordinary, not by any means, but no relationship is going to be perfect, and yet that's what I've been striving for all along.  So while I may not fit the bill in the traditional sense, perhaps I am a bit of perfectionist after all…just don't tell P I told you that!  ;)

-k

Take A Chance On Me

I'm going to let you in on a little secret…I have an incredible singing voice.  It's true.  In the car or in the shower, when I'm by myself, there are times I could rival Christina Aguilera.  Curiously, my musical talents don't seem transfer over into the outside world, like in front of crowds or whenever any other people are around for that matter (there must be something about being in an enclosed space that makes the acoustics just right).  Nevertheless I love to sing karaoke.  There's something I find very appealing about getting up in front of a small crowd, gripping onto a microphone and really giving it my all.  

This past Saturday I made plans to go out and sing karaoke with some friends.  A small group of us gathered at a sushi bar downtown, mostly coworkers but there were a few new faces also.  With karaoke on the menu, I had suspected the evening might present an opportunity for me to make a fool of myself but I didn't realize that it would provide me with a chance to reflect on some of the progress I'd been making in therapy also.  In the past being out in a group like this especially with some people I didn't know might have left me feeling awkward or uncomfortable and, I'll admit, as I initially glanced around the table at some of the unfamiliar faces I could feel myself fidgeting a little with my sake glass.  But then suddenly something began to change.  I could actually feel a shift within myself and as I became aware of the situation it was almost as if my entire perspective changed in that instant leaving me with a surge of peace and confidence.  Feeling more at ease, I was able to focus my attention outward instead of on myself and as a result I had a much better time than I might have otherwise.

On Tuesday in therapy I told P about my fun evening out (although I left out the part about the sake) and I also described for her the "change of vision" I had experienced.  P explained that this is what it feels like when you begin to change as a result of therapy.  First you start by noticing small things and then, as your entire mindset begins to shift, the benefits of therapy resonate effortlessly into other areas of your life.  


Consider my blind date, the subject of last week's blog.  In the past, being set up on a blind date is something I probably never would have agreed to, let alone initiated.  Yet building confidence in other areas of my life (such as work and social situations) allowed me to enter more boldly into the dating arena.  P even pointed out that changing up my pre-planned date outfit last minute for something a little more fun and flirty (something I'd viewed as a small detail) suggested that I had taken an even bigger risk than I'd previously realized.  Even with all my anxiety about moving on from my last relationship fresh in my mind, I had managed to set that aside for the time being and put my best face forward.  

My session with P got me thinking about risks.  Take karaoke for example:  For some people (myself included) the act of getting up and singing in front of a crowd for the first time can feel risky to say the least.  But if you can muster up the confidence to just go for it you'll typically find that, not only is it incredibly fun and liberating, but it usually goes better than you think (Ok I said usually, but seriously what's the worst that could happen? I have yet to hear of a case of someone's head exploding after being subject to a bad rendition of Dancing Queen).  And then the more you do it, the less scary it seems.  The more comfortable you become taking chances in life the more quickly you begin to free yourself from the confines of your own limitations.

Having the courage to take risks (even small ones) is crucial to so many aspects of life.  Anything from telling a joke or making small talk with strangers to bigger things like speaking up for your your needs or learning to open yourself up again after you've been hurt can be considered a risk if you think about it - even by going through the process of therapy I'm taking a big chance on myself.  


Maybe that's part of what I like so much about karaoke...it serves as a subtle reminder of how invigorating and rewarding it can be to take chances.  And perhaps that's why I continue to face the crowd and give it my all again and again, in hopes of delivering that Grammy winning performance I know deep down I'm capable of.

-k

Back in the Saddle Again

This week I set myself up on a blind date.  Well, kind of… I have a friend of a friend who has a friend (stick with me here) who I heard through the grapevine that I might be interested in meeting so I took it upon myself to facilitate our introduction.  Trust me when I say that this was way beyond my scope of comfort.  Still, feeling a little apprehensive since my last relationship and needing a bit of a push to get back in the dating scene I decided it would be best to take the bull by the horns so to speak (you fall off the horse you get back on right?).  So I took matters into my own hands, contacted this friend of a friend's friend and introduced myself.  A little back-and-forth via Facebook and text and voila! - we had plans to meet for drinks on Tuesday night.  And so with a deep breath and my eyes closed tight, I threw myself back into the dating pool.  

A self-proclaimed non-dater (most of my significant relationships have evolved naturally out of friendships), I was really in unfamiliar territory here.  Still somehow throughout the work week I managed to initiate some witty pre-date conversation, come up with a suitable game plan for the evening and even plan out an outfit.  With my last relationship 6 months behind me and never in my life having been on a blind date, I figured I might be nervous but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was really feeling pretty even keel about the situation.  It wasn't until Sunday night rolled around that thoughts of the pending date began weighing heavily on my mind

I found myself having what I considered to be some of the 'normal' types of stressful thoughts (concerns about my outfit, whether or not to offer to split the check, what if I don't like him? what if he doesn't like me?) but I also could sense something deeper.  There was a heavy feeling of anxiety in my chest.  That night I tossed and turned until 3 am when I finally fell into a restless sleep.  Sure I had been out of the dating loop for awhile but this seemed like more than just the typical first date jitters.  No, I was definitely experiencing a deeper kind of stress, like plunging off a cliff into the unknown.  

The next evening driving home from work reflecting on the previous night's sleep (or lack thereof), I had a sudden realization that what I was stressed about wasn't really the date at all but what it represented in my mind: letting go of my past relationship and moving on.  In reality, all I had committed to was to having drinks and a couple hours of conversation with another human being but I felt more like I was getting ready to sign a marriage license.  

The next day in therapy when I told P about the stress I had been feeling she reiterated what I already knew - that my anxiety wasn't about the date itself.  She also helped me define what I feared about moving on.  It can be scary letting go of the past and facing a future that's uncertain especially when you've invested so much of yourself in another person.  I began to realize that it's going to be hard and it's going to take a lot, including resetting my expectations for the future and adjusting my hopes and plans.  It can be difficult to accept the past, especially when it didn't go as you planned but I'm starting to see that it's necessary to let go of the past in order to embrace the future.  As we parted P gave me some good advice for my date that evening:  if it goes well and we hit it off then great but if we don't then "just relax", she said "and enjoy your wine."  

So with that in mind, I went home, put my iPOD on shuffle and began to get ready for the evening.  As I felt myself begin to relax, my stress gave way to anticipation and even a little excitement. I even ditched my pre-planned outfit at the last minute for something I felt cuter and more confident in.  And as I drove toward my destination for the evening, I actually felt really happy and found myself thinking that maybe this whole dating thing wouldn't be so bad after all.  

As for my date…well, it was no love connection but it was decidedly still a huge success.  It turns out putting myself back out there wasn't as scary as it seemed, it actually felt good, gutsy even.  Realizing I have the confidence to be myself and also to trust myself to know what I want (and what I don't want) when it comes to dating is kind of empowering.  This particular first date won't be leading a second one but that doesn't mean there won't be plenty of others that may.  And even if I find myself on another dead end date sometime in the future, I know that I can always just sit back, relax and enjoy my wine.

-k

Keeping the Faith

I have a friend who I get together with once every couple of months for the sole purpose of seeing a girly movie.  You know the type, the cheesy feel-good romantic comedy or emotion-laden drama that we'd probably never subject anyone else to.  The type of movie with a story line that is beyond far-fetched and yet, even though you mentally interject your skepticism at every turn of the plot, you still can't help but smile when the main characters wind up together in the end.   


On Monday we went to see "Just Go With It," the new Adam Sandler movie starring Jennifer Aniston. True to form, the story followed a ridiculous series of ill-fated events with unlikely resolutions and yet sure enough, towards the end of the movie, as the main characters finally come to realize they've actually been in love with one another all along, I found myself smiling as usual.  Only this time something was different... for the first time in a long time I didn't hear the voice in my head telling me that would never happen for me.  

When my last relationship ended I felt like I'd lost my faith.  My faith in people, my faith in relationships, my faith in happy endings.  When you go through something that shakes you like that it can feel devastating and very absolute. It can make you feel like there's no hope for a future that's any different than what you feel in that moment and, if you're not careful, that's exactly the kind of reality you can create for yourself.  The fear of winding up right back in that same spot can be paralyzing.  It can prevent you from taking the risks or chances that might open up an opportunity to change that future for yourself.

After a couple weeks of feeling not so great I am finally coming around to feeling like myself again, only an even better version.  This week P and I spent a little more time talking about my 'setback' (though P didn't particularly like that choice of words) and how it's part of the process, not just of therapy but really part of the process of life as well.  There are always going to be times when I don't feel great or various things or events that may throw me for a loop.  Building confidence in myself and building secure relationships certainly will help me get through the difficult times but I think perhaps equally important is simply having faith to trust in the process.   So instead of feeling annoyed by or trying to brush aside my self-described setback I embrace it because I realize that having experienced that tough time will provide me with more confidence in the future that, not only can I get through the hard times, but I am capable of bouncing back.

So I'm learning to trust the process but perhaps most importantly I'm beginning to have faith again, faith that my future can have a happier ending than the one I'd written for myself - if I'm willing to take the chances.  And on that note, I almost walked up and started talking to a cute guy I saw shopping at Target yesterday (I know, I said 'almost' but it's still a huge step for me!) I know that my fear is an obstacle that I'll need to overcome but I feel like if I can conquer that then I can conquer almost anything.  

-k

Writer's Block

I'm often questioned about my creative process… Ok, I'm never asked this.  I'm not a professional writer by any stretch of the imagination.  For my writing I rely on a little luck, a whole lot of coffee, and my overall general appeal  (let's face it - people get me).  Whatever the magical blending of conditions, I am generally able to just sit down, begin typing and somehow watch my thoughts from the week materialize onto the computer screen in front of me in a (mostly) coherent matter.  


My desire to share my process of therapy has thus far given me inspiration enough to grab onto some of the ideas I have floating around in my head, pair those with the concepts I'm learning, throw in a few jaunty lines and turn it into a somewhat presentable blog post.   But this past week whenever I  tried to sit down and write nothing came.  No ideas buzzing around in my head.  No clever quips.  No excitement.  Nothing.  My computer screen remained blank, the blinking cursor on an empty page taunting me like a flickering neon sign that read "BLAH'.  

The truth is I had nothing to say.  The process of therapy can be exciting when you're learning about yourself, challenging your 'old' self with new ideas, encouraging yourself to take risks and having them pay off and seeing progress.  But what about when you find yourself stuck at a plateau?  Or worse, what about when, despite all your efforts, you find yourself not feeling good at all?  

Fresh from my recent vacation and having had a mostly fun and relaxing time I had hoped that things were looking up, still I couldn't escape a lingering feeling of sadness.  I looked to my session with P last week to wipe away all of the bleakness I was feeling.  I was hoping to have some kind of magical revelation that would help turn everything around.  That never happened.  We started off the session by talking about my trip.  I told P how I'd had a good time and reviewed some of the specific points where I felt I'd made progress.  Yet even as I described my so-called 'progress' I still wasn't buying it.  


Six months into my therapy now P wanted to review some of the initial goals we'd set when I first started coming to see her.  She read to me from a questionnaire I had filled out during one of our first sessions.  I'm certain that P's intention was that by revisiting my initial session and some of the thoughts and emotions I'd had circling my mind at that time that I would be able to recognize how much progress I'd made.  Instead I was only reminded of how far I hadn't come.  I left feeling less accomplished than ever, wondering when, if ever, I was going to start feeling good again.

Earlier in the week, while still in Miami, my sister and I had been laying on the beach relaxing.  We made small talk, with the sun on our backs, absentmindedly running our hands through the sand and looking at seashells.  My sister brought up the idea of hermit crabs and how it seems so odd that they evolved to carry an entire shell on their back and yet at some point as they grow they are forced to leave that shell to find another and it would seem that finding the perfect fit would be a one in a million shot.  Pondering that thought, she posed the question, "what if that just doesn't work out for the crab in the real world?"  


At the time I was kind of struck by that notion but I didn't know why.  I realized later that I totally get that crab, in fact I am that crab, wandering the vast ocean, vulnerable to changing tides, desperately seeking shelter and wondering whether I'll ever find my home, my place where I feel happy, safe and secure?

I think maybe I have been looking for the process of therapy to provide me with that security and feeling some of the same negative thoughts and sense of hopelessness I'd first experienced before starting therapy was disheartening, especially at this stage.  I think that played a big role in my not being able to recognize or feel happy about the progress I'd made thus far.  If after six months of therapy I could still find myself struggling with the same old issues, how then, I reasoned, could I be making any progress?  


The difficult thing with therapy is that it's an ongoing process and while you often can recognize the results, they aren't really measurable at least not by any concrete standards.  After talking with P it seems that perhaps feeling more vulnerable in general pushed me back into some of those same old patterns because they resonated with the negative feelings I was having.   Feeling scared, I'd tried to retreat back into my old shell and I'd sulked there awhile only to realize that it didn't fit me any more. 


Therapy isn't easy.  It takes effort to look deep inside and discover things about yourself that you may not want to face and sometimes it can feel overwhelming.   However, I think it's the desire to change and to find better circumstances that will keep me forging ahead.  True, at times it may seem like a one in a million shot, but I think it's worth the risk to find my perfect fit.


-k

Weathering the Storm

I spent much of the past week in a haze.  I had what could be described as a bad week.  The kind of week flooded with an unfortunate cascade of events where one bad turn seems to beget another.  I've had weeks like this before but this one was a doozy.  Between drama at work, a series of sad cases (at my job I deal with life and death) and other events not going the way I had hoped or planned, there were many points where I could have gotten caught up in the whirlpool of emotions I felt bubbling at the surface. 


Fresh off of a few weeks of feeling some really great progress from therapy I was aware that I could be due for a less exciting week.  And with a few important and potentially stressful events on the horizon (my trip to Miami, my 30th birthday) I already knew that any wayward situations I encountered would need to be approached with caution.  Towards the beginning of the week, even though I could sense the current of emotion, I was still able to keep my head above water and not be swept away by the undertow.   I continued to bob along, maintaining a neutral stance as I watched the debris float by.  By the end of the week, culminating with a particularly sad case at work, I could finally feel the waves rising around me. I was going under.


When it came time for my session with P I don't even think she had to ask me how my week had been; it was written all over my face.  I was tearful as I talked to her about feeling discouraged and the realization that I had been making all of this progress and now to have a week like this felt like a failure.  I questioned whether therapy could help me, whether I was capable of creating change for myself.  I was disheartened that, after having experienced feeling so content and confident, here I was back at square one.


P pointed out that not only had I been making great strides with my personal goals but that these feelings of self-doubt are normal.  We also talked about how when you're feeling really good these periods of negative emotion can often feel much more intense in contrast.  (Although P reassured me that this does get better with time).  I think I realize now more than ever that this process isn't easy and it really takes strength and courage to persevere and bring about positive change for yourself, especially during the times of self-doubt.


Interestingly, none of the so-called bad events of my week was likely responsible for my mood.  Taken at a glance, I've certainly had weeks just like this, or probably much worse, where I didn't feel nearly as bad.  For whatever reason, or combination of reasons (a miscommunication with my therapist, starting to become more open about therapy, the stress of an upcoming trip, a string of sad cases at work), I was left in a vulnerable state and I began to doubt myself which clouded my vision, kind of like opening your eyes under water.  In retrospect I am now able to see a little more clearly some of the triggers behind these intense emotions.  (Only when I'm in the middle of it, it feels more like a hurricane and I'm left to sort out the aftermath).


Looking back (and I only truly came to recognize this after reading through my journal and sitting down to write this post), I realize it was actually a pretty average week.  I see that my negative feelings did tend to ebb and flow throughout the week (quite different from the hurricane I'd imagined) and I did have points at which I continued to make significant progress.  I've certainly experienced a torrent of emotions like this before.  What is different now is that I am able to view it almost from an outsider perspective, a lifeguard on the shore warning myself not to tread here or there because the tide is too high.  I can  notice my emotions or realize that I'm reacting to one event when I'm actually upset about something else entirely.  In some cases this actually allowed me to keep my reactions in check. 


Now as the fog clears heading into my next week and I'm able to once again gain some perspective I'm focusing on relaxing and enjoying my vacation, spending time with family and celebrating my birthday. And as I write this, sitting on a plane flying way above the ocean, I think I'm starting to see the sun again.


-k

I'm No Charlie Sheen..

I had intended to write this week’s post about all of the ways in which we sabotage ourselves through self-defeating behaviors.  This is a theme that had been on my mind as I found myself going about my week.  It was going to be witty and poignant (some would  say groundbreaking).  I had a clever title picked out and everything.  I was looking forward to my therapy session so that I could piece everything together before sitting down to write tonight...

I arrived at my therapist’s office today literally bubbling over with things to talk about.  I couldn’t wait to tell P about all of the progress I had been noticing throughout the week: I had been feeling far more confident and content, making better decisions for myself, I had even finally told my mom that I was going to therapy (something we had talked about in previous sessions and that I had been wanting to do for awhile).  As I started to tell her about my week I kept focusing on this idea of self-sabotage (like any good writer doing research on her subject) and giving her examples of how I felt I had demonstrated these so-called sabotaging behaviors.  


I told her about all of the little things I did that I felt were causing me to get in my own way.   How I never seemed to be able to find where I’d parked my car at the mall for example, and I felt I had been ‘sabotaging’ myself by not even paying attention to where I’d left it in the first place, or how in the past I may have bought clothes I didn’t really like or that were ill-fitting and I wondered if this played into feelings of a negative self image.  I even used the example of celebrities in the media constantly causing trouble for themselves, falling in and out of rehab, to try to shed some light on my point.  

That’s when I began to feel like P and I weren’t really on the same page.  First, her definition of self-sabotage was different than what I’d had in mind (for the record, self-sabotaging behaviors tend to have detrimental effects on a person’s life or relationships while self-defeating behaviors are generally much more benign), and she also suggested a different potential cause for the reason behind some of my behaviors (was it perhaps my anxiety surrounding an idea I had of myself that was clouding my reasoning during some of these times rather than my subconscious setting me up?)  I slowly felt my balloon deflating as I kissed this week’s blog post (and my future Pulitzer...) goodbye.  Moreover I started to feel a little more doubtful about some of the progress I had been making and the value I had placed on it.

Feeling a little troubled that evening and in need of a new blog topic stat I decided to take my dogs for a walk to clear my head and hopefully generate some ideas.  I mentally reviewed my arsenal of potential themes, thinking back to previous weeks in therapy, and I silently lamented about today’s session not going the way I had planned.  That's when a thought occurred to me...had I let my blog dictate today’s therapy session?

As I considered this notion, I realized there were several important topics from my week that I hadn’t even had the chance to talk to P about: The great strides I was continuing to make at work, the fact that over the weekend I’d had one of the most fun and enjoyable evenings with my family that I can remember in a long time, my feelings surrounding my upcoming trip to Miami (granted there is only so much ground one can cover in a 50 minute session but still..)  I had let my focus on the idea of self-sabotage in a sense sabotage (or at least take over) my therapy session.  

I had talked to P about how I hoped my blog wouldn’t take away from my journaling (journaling is an important part of therapy for many reasons which I’ll probably touch upon in the future) but I never thought about how it might affect my actual therapy sessions.  The thing is, I get so excited when I’m feeling the effects of my progress that I want to bottle it up and share it with the world.  That’s one of the main reasons I had behind starting my blog.  I may be trying to approach the idea of therapy in sort of a cook-book manner but I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with that.  Besides I think it’s helpful to try and identify themes and ideas that may help serve as tools that I can use in the future.  That being said, while I intend to continue to use my therapy sessions to help clarify some of these concepts (this being one of more important ways in which I learn), I hope to also remember that the purpose for me being there is to learn about myself and I will try to be conscious to make that my primary goal.

So while I may not know sabotage, here is what I do know: I may have some behaviors that cause me to get in my own way but I rarely, if ever, actually truly sabotage myself and for that I am grateful.  Furthermore, as I go forth in therapy I am not only recognizing ways to sidestep these behaviors but I am also continuing to feel more confident and content in my everyday life and so even if I do get in my own way a little, it really doesn’t bother me as much any more.  And that, my friends, is what they call progress.

-k