My perfectionism tried to eat me alive

By BethAnn Zenk

For as long as I can remember, I have taken pride in “doing well” at life.

I put my friends first, am the “model daughter” and succeed at the top of my class. 

I am blessed with an amazing support system and incredible life opportunities. For those who are looking at my life from the outside, it’d appear I live the ideal life.

perfectionism

No one sees how exhausting it is for me to have to put on this show every day. I push down my emotions in order to avoid bothering those around me, and the more I ignore it, the worst the anxiety becomes.

My perfectionism has always been seen as a strength: I never procrastinate, I succeed in school, and I perform well in front of others. -but that’s just it, it’s all a performance.

Inside, my anxiety has taken a wild turn for the worst. I panic at the idea of disappointing someone or having them find out the ‘mess’ that is truly me. I fear them finding out I am not only a bubbly, successful woman but also a deeply anxious and exhausted human being. My soul aches and my heart races at any thought of someone finding out that all of this is actually just a façade of mine.

Until recently, even I was in the dark about how much control my perfectionism had over me. I assumed I was just one of those “Type A” personalities and I continued to let my anxiety slowly bubble inside of me, thinking it was normal to be this on edge all the time. It was not until my anxiety began to impede on my work and academics that I finally decided to let the messy side of who I am show. I committed to seeing a counselor and as I wrote the appointment in my neatly organized planner, my anxiety rose by a mile.

In her office, I found myself at the height of it all. My façade had fallen and here was this woman across from me experiencing the lowest of my lows.

“She must think I’m crazy.”
“How have I let it get this bad?”
“My god, I can only imagine what she’s thinking right now.”

These were all things my anxiety began to whisper to me as I quietly sat smiling from ear to ear.

I hid the anxiety, I let it take control, and now here I was destroyed in an office I never thought I’d ever be in.
My perfectionism had taken me over and I was finally tired of ignoring it.

My mental health has always been at the forefront of my conversations- which is ironic for how in denial I truly was with it.

Counseling opened my mind to vulnerability– true, gross, scary vulnerability. Because I am flawed, and messy, and yes- sometimes I screw up. My anxiety convinces me that in order to be loved, I need to be perfect and that’s the fault in my thinking that I’m still trying to address.

I am a work in progress and that can be hard to accept. Dealing with anxiety is exhausting, the more I pushed it down the worse it became, and the worse it became, the more I began to fall into it.

The stigma behind mental health is still very much alive. Even as a mental health advocate, I fear showing my imperfect edges.

I fear I’ll disappoint the mental health community, my family, my peers- but this is my anxiety talking and it’s my job as a voice within this community to talk back to it.

My anxiety might have a voice, but so do I.

Whether you’re feeling more pressure than usual, you’re comparing yourself to others, or your medication doesn’t seem to be working this month– talk about it, don’t push it aside. Our mental health should be at the forefront of our conversations and at the top of our priorities.

We are not weak because we have weaknesses. Let’s start sharing that and boosting each other up- it takes such courage to be who we really are.

I am messy. I am not perfect. But I am still me.


The views and opinions expressed in this post are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect all or some of our beliefs and policy.  Any links on this page does not necessarily mean they have been endorsed by Defying Mental Illness.

Find more about BethAnn here ->  https://www.instagram.com/beeayezee/

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