Tag Archives: perfectionism

PERFECTIONISM SUCKS

So y’all get it, right?  I’m not a fan of the holidays.  I’m also pretty sure I’ve had more than one blog post entitled, “Scrooge”, so I named this one differently.

I put too much pressure on myself.  I need to get the “perfect” gifts.  I need to make the “perfect” meals.  I need to entertain “perfectly”.  My answer to all this needed perfection is to lay in bed and do nothing, so it can’t possibly be a bummer/failure.  If I don’t do it to begin with, I can’t screw up on it. (Dear Therapist I Used to Go To: I remember I am supposed to allow myself three mistakes a day, I do.)

But today I felt better than I have in a while, so I brought the kept-together pre-lit fake Christmas tree up from the basement  and plopped it in its designated area in the living room.  A) this is early in the year for me to put it up if I put it up at all; B) this is the first time in seven years I’ve put it up vs. the kids or Marty putting it up since I saw any decorating as a huge effort.

This pic is evidence of just how much I care what my seven-year old tree looks like (I clearly should have taken this tag off on year one).  And there are no ornaments, just this tag and some toxic lead-embedded ribbon from China.  Those ornaments y’all love and I love are too much work.  I’m pretending this tag is an ornament.  Screw it, there’s a tree up.

Check out this link about migraines and depression: Humpf, I think they know me somehow.

I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO’S ANGRY

HEADACHE LEVEL:  0 (“yay” is an understatement)

EFFEXOR LEVEL: 37 mg (still dwindling down)

PERIMENOPAUSE LEVEL: 3 (Marty’s lucky day)

All levels are on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst.

If you read my post yesterday about my anger issues which I blame on being pre-menopausal, peri-menopausal, or para-menopausal, you will see that I have a few new BFFs below:

And when the first one talks about a “gas experience”, she is speaking about my incident at the gas station, not an experience with flatulence, though I have those, too.

As a fellow “paramenopausal”, I say DO NOT manage the anger.  It is my firm belief that we owe it to the world to let them know how badly they all suck.  We owe it to ourselves to let out the ugliness inside.  I am in an angry mood and had a similiar gas experience this morning.  However as I was leaving my spot, I opened the window and told the idiot parked in the double lane what a great parking job…. probably should have been nicer to that elderly lady who really had no idea what I was talking about. Oh well I am in a bad mood and she should understand as she probably was once menopausal and angry.

I thought that was pretty damn funny.  In fact, I laughed out loud for the first time in days.  Then I got this reply as well:

My husband told me that since I have gone through menopause, it is like I have continuous PMS that never goes away.

To which I said:  What? You mean this will never go away?  Oy vey.

Yes, I’m reading my book about “anger”.  Is there a magic bullet to erase my Calvinistic perfectionism?  In the olden days that magic bullet was Milton, then Valium, now Xanax.  Oh how I wish I could live 24/7 on Xanax.

Love,

Little Miss Sunshine