I was revising a post about the pitfalls of perfectionism and realized I couldn’t stop revising it. I had fallen into the very pitfall I wrote about in the post that no one would read.
What a conundrum and interesting predicament.
Interesting, because this predicament of mine could serve as a learning experience for other perfectionists. The perfect opportunity, I thought, to think out loud while asking the question: Why can’t I finish a post I’ve revised countless times and now look at with contempt?
Is the problem really my dissatisfaction with the piece or is there a deeper, darker reason why I can’t finish it?
I don’t have the answer because I just started asking the question.
This will be my therapy session. And I will be the therapist, which I know, seems unfair and probably counterproductive. But since I have the floor or whatever it is I have, I will continue asking the question, and hopefully, you will continue reading.
A Q&A will follow at which point I hope you’ll jump in with your thoughts or recommendation that I should be committed by the Geek Squad.
I should also probably mention that I’m ADD and a bit neurotic.
Anyway, as I type these rambling words (that never stop), I had an epiphany about my post that I had blamed perfectionism for not completing, and realized that perfectionism was the symptom, not the cause — Because the cause was fear.
Yes, my thoughts were stuck in that cerebral mud pit in my brain known as fear, or post-traumatic post syndrome when I should have realized that writing a piece of anything, whether crap or candy, doesn’t matter. Writing something, anything is the point.
And making a point doesn’t hurt either.
Allowing the fear of failure to hold me or you back is really the true meaning of insanity and should be served with a restraining order.
Now, write something, then rinse and repeat.