I had to go to the doctor again today because of something besides my scare yesterday. I’m fine no worries, but emotionally maybe not so fine. My doctor always asks me about my social life, and if I’m working or going to school, etc., and basically I have to tell him, “Well right now I’m just volunteering doing administrative work.” He acted like that was an important thing, and maybe it’s just me reading too much into it, but I always come out of appointments with him feeling like I’m not doing enough with my life. I’m working on it, is all I can say. We talked about how I don’t socialize very often because I don’t feel like anyone understands what I’m going through and when I try and explain it, they tend to dismiss it like it’s nothing. He says he doesn’t really understand it much himself, he only learned about mental illness in school. He’s never experienced it so he doesn’t fully grasp what it’s about. So I felt like he was judging me, and thinking I should be doing more with my life. I just feel bad about myself, like I haven’t accomplished what I should have by now. I should be going out with friends, I should be working, I should be finished with school, blah, blah, blah. I just hate feeling like this. I don’t mean to be so negative and hard on myself, but I don’t know how to stop.
Honestly I think I know where this “not good enough” thing comes from. I don’t mean to put blame on anyone, especially don’t want to put it on my dad, but when I was in school and I came home with a B on a paper or math test, the first thing he would ask me is what I got wrong. He never said, “Good job! Way to go!” He just always asked, “What did you do wrong?” Thinking about it makes me want to cry because it still affects me so much. I wish he could have been happy for me. But he rarely was. Even if I got a 98% on something, he would ask me what I got wrong, and we would have to look at it and figure out the right answer. Like if it was math, he would make me go through the problem and solve it the right way. It made me feel so bad about myself. I never felt like anything I did was good enough. It could always be better. He would only give me a high-five if I got 100%. Now in my adult life when I have people making me feel bad about myself, or maybe just asking me about my life, I instantly feel this sense of failure, like I haven’t solved the equation correctly.
Last weekend I was hanging ornaments on our outside trees on our front lawn. My dad asked me to put some on the taller trees and I couldn’t reach the higher branches to hang the ornaments so I put most of them on one level. It didn’t look terrible, it looked cute. But my dad asked me for the scissors and when I gave them to him he went over to my tree and he cut the ornaments off and started hanging them the way he wanted to. He told me he wanted to make it look better. My way wasn’t good enough. I said, “So, what my way isn’t good enough for you?” And he said, “No, I just want to hang them differently.” Ha, what? I made him hang them the way I had it, because I didn’t like that he would change what I took the time to do. So obviously, I could learn this isn’t my problem. This is my dad’s problem. He’s a perfectionist times infinity. I don’t want to be like that. My doctor actually said to me today, “The enemy of ‘good enough’ is perfection.” I like that saying. I love my dad so much. But I wish he knew how he made me feel. However, it’s really up to me to change my way of thinking. I need to realize that he may never change, but I can change how I react to it, and what I take from it. Like I said before, his problem, not mine. He doesn’t feel good enough, but I can choose to feel good enough and leave “good enough” alone.
I wish I knew everyone that read my blog in real life because I know you all would understand what I’m going through. I hate that most people don’t. People seem to only want to talk about superficial meaningless junk instead of opening up and talking about meaningful things and life struggles. No one likes to be real. They want to put up a front like everything is fine, when it’s not. I literally feel exhausted when I get together with a “friend” that want to talk about meaningless shit. It’s like what’s the point anyway?