Imperfect Perfection

One of the biggest parts of OCD is an extreme fear of failure. Whether you fear you'll fail by contaminating yourself or others...or you fear you'll fail by not tapping that light switch three times and someone gets in a car wreck...or you fear if you eat that piece of fried chicken you have not eaten perfectly and will now die an early death. So very much of OCD is focused on being the perfect person.

But guess what!?! No one, not a single person in this world, is even capable of being perfect. We all make mistakes daily, we all have our little failings. And in a way, the rigors of compulsive behavior associated with OCD cause even more imperfection. We strive for perfection and are completely imperfect the whole way. 

I strive all the time to be the perfect wife and mother. To be the perfect friend and relative. But you can't be everything to everyone. You really can't even be everything to just one person. And trying to be, striving to be, will slowly eat at you. I worry incessantly about how much cleaning I have done in a day or how well I have cleaned. A perfect mother would not have a dirty house, or dirty clothes, or dirty kitchen...I worry incessantly about my weight and my looks and my being...a perfect wife would always look good for her husband, right? Does this mean that my house is always clean or that I always look my best. Oh my goodness, NO! In fact, it is quite the obvious, my obsession with wanting to clean "properly" or "look my best" keeps me from actually even achieving those things. I am overweight, I do not have the best clothes, my hair rarely is "done"...my house is constantly in the process of being cleaned and my floor is always dirty. Do I think that if I let go of things and didn't obsess so much that these things would change. Not really. But I do think I could enjoy more of life if I did. I do think that it would be much more enjoyable to spend time coloring a book with my son or watching a movie with my husband, if I wasn't obsessed continuously about the perfection of my being. 

But even with that being said, it is almost impossible for me not to obsess about it. My mind is filled continuously through every day with what needs to be done next. Always.

I am feeling more hopeful everyday that I can let go of some of this pressure to be perfect. I am so very hopeful that one day I can just enjoy time spent with my son and husband. That sitting down to a dinner with them will just be that and not be paired with continuous thoughts of what do I need to do after this or was the food good enough or is the kitchen cleaned enough. One day, I will just sit with husband and son and BE.