Have I ever mentioned that I am a recovering perfectionist?
I bring it up because, I am really having a perfectionism relapse. I am not sure what has triggered this and it is kind of frustrating. Here are some examples…I was given an Art Therapy project to work on while the AT was on vacation. I am supposed to be making a book with pictures of “safe places.” He dubbed it, Heidi’s Big Book of Safe Places. And so, I started the first picture…It wasn’t coming out perfectly and I was really frustrated and so I left it for a day. And went back to it and I just couldn’t stand it, so I tore it out and threw it away. I worked on two other pictures and they are acceptable I guess….but they aren’t perfect and it really bothers me. (And I started it before the AT forgetting issue, so it was not related to that.)
Pottery class? Crazy perfectionism. My projects are not coming out the way I want and it is killing me. To me, they look stupid and trashy and the farthest thing from perfect. I totally wanted to scrap them…but I am suffering through it, like maybe the glaze will help them look better? Or maybe they will just look kindergarten quality and stupid, but with glaze. Ugh!
And then yesterday, we celebrated my MIL’s birthday and I made a cake with chocolate frosting. Dh thought it was kind of plain looking, so I tried sprinkling confectioner’s sugar into a cookie cutter, to then lift the cookie cutter and leave the shape on the frosting. Only it didn’t work. I was so frustrated because it made the cake not perfect. So frustrated that I stomped off to the couch and just about burst into tears. Ds said, “It’s just a cake. It’s fine.” And I know it’s just a cake…but it wasn’t perfect anymore. It was ruined.
So…this is all challenging. I kind of thought I had more control of my hyper-perfectionism but I guess I don’t…And I don’t know what changed and what has made it sooo extreme right now.
It snowed yesterday. It is snowing right now. There is snow accumulating. And I am not ready. Last winter was sooo awful for me in terms of my mood…Like really, really bad. And I am pretty much dreading this winter because of it. Several challenging things happened between just about his time last year and through February and I did not handle it well at all. And my mood and anxiety just got worse and worse and worse….I am so afraid this winter will be like last winter….I don’t want to feel that bad again. So…for me, the snow is sort of a harbinger of ill. And it makes me feel stressed and anxious.
But…I did take pictures for folks who I know will enjoy seeing the snow. And maybe your excitement can help shift my trepidation.
Probably time to mulch the strawberries!
And the dogs get double layer, extra warm jammies today! ❤
So, my dreams have been okay for a week or so. Which is great! But last night…I had a dream where I was living with a family and I was in charge of their large number of children. The kids were outside playing in the yard and a bear cub came along, and then another cub and then the angry momma bear. And I had to get all the children in the house and lock the doors and keep out the momma bear. Only the doors were flimsy. And then the bear tried to come in the window, so I tried to close the window, but the windows didn’t have locks…you could actually see at some point they had had locks, but they had been removed. And, while doing all this bear guarding, I kept trying to call 911 to get help…but I kept misdialing the number. Like, I bet I called 15 times in the dream. Of the 15 times,I dialed the wrong number a dozen times and I got through three times, once with a message saying 911 was closed for lunch and to call back later, once I was put on hold and no one ever came back, and the third time, I got someone who didn’t take my need seriously. Talk about a stressful dream! (And the trying to use the phone to get help and not being able to dial the right number is a recurring dream that I have had for probably 30 years!)
The dream then shifted to where I slept in the family’s house. I slept at the bottom of a set of wooden stairs that had a door at the last step. There were bags of trash and old dusty cardboard boxes and junk that filled the bottom few steps to make a place for me to sleep. So, I slept in this nasty, hard, cold stairwell on top of trash. All the children in the home had nice bedrooms and there were even two empty rooms and I hoped that one was going to be for me….And I talked to the mother about it….But she just took me back to my trash stairs and that was my place.
Nice, eh? The AT and I have been talking forever about his contention that I matter and I have been telling him forever that me, my feelings, nothing about me matters. And in my dream…I didn’t matter enough for 911 to help me and I didn’t matter enough to have any place other than trash in which to sleep. See…even my psyche knows I don’t matter!
Anyway….at least it wasn’t a nightmare, but it was a pretty stressful dream.