perfectionism

 Yesterday, my therapist told me that I was a perfectionist. I never considered myself as such since I tend to give up on stuff before even finishing them and always working as little as possible. But she told me that was because I didn't want to put efforts in things I know won't be perfect, or good enough in my opinion. I'm not sure I'm explaining it well here because I'm tired and my brain isn't working but the way she said it, I totally understood what she meant. I don't put effort in the things I do because it means if it's not perfect, at least I didn't lose too much time or energy dealing with that. 

It's the same reason as for why I'm struggling so much with my creativity. I want to make great art, stuff that pleases my idea of beauty and greatness but I don't feel like I'm ever good enough to do so. And so, I don't draw, I don't write, I don't make anything because it means I won't have to be disappointed. 

I have to try and change this behaviour but it's easier said than done. I wish I could just fuck it, open Word and start writing the chapter 6 of The Brief History but it's been four months and I just can't. I wish I could open Procreate, pick up my pen and doodle stupid shit but I can't. My brain is my worst enemy. It's so tiring to live life this way. 

My therapist also told me that ADHD can cause this kind of behaviour and it's not only because of my perfectionism. I have to put my heart and mind in the same place and not on two different paths, or something like that. I get what she's saying but, once again, I don't think I can do it. Not now. Not yet. One day I'll probably be able to trick my brain into doing the stuff I want but these days I'm only its victim. 

I have a four-days weekend and I have things to do. I have to clean up my room and tidy a lot of things. I have to take a shower. I have to send emails and eat real meals and I'd like to write more than blog posts. I don't think I'll do any of that, thought. I know if I think this way then I'll never get anything done but you have to understand I'm exhausted. Currently, as I'm writing this, I'm thinking about getting back into bed and I'll probably do after I'm done blogging. I'll take a pack of chocolates and cuddle with my cat, watching youtube videos or a tv show. Nothing interesting. It's sunny outside but I don't want to get out. I don't want to talk to anyone. 

Yesterday, my therapist also talked to me about masking. Since she told me she was 99.9% sure that I'm autistic, she's been talking a lot about what it means and how I can deal with it. She explained that I've been masking for so long I'm probably not even aware of it. That's why everything always wears me out so much. I can be fine in any given situation then feel out of the world for days afterwards and that's because I was masking without knowing. I think I recognize myself a lot in that. Acting in certain ways, feeling alright at a certain time and then feeling down without knowing why... That's my life. I'm not yet sure of how I'm supposed to not mask or if I'll be able to stop doing it one day. Maybe I'll find other coping mechanisms that help me more. I wish I could live my life without feeling this exhaustion. I wish I could enjoy the good moments without thinking about the next thing. 

A few years ago, my ex-therapist talked to me about autism and it scared me. I think I wasn't as aware of my mental health and state as I am now. Being depressed was still scary and I was shy about it. I didn't know how to talk about it with my friends or other people. Autism seemed even worse than that. Maybe one day I could get rid of my sadness but if I was on the spectrum, it was a life sentence. When I told my friends back then, they told me it wouldn't change anything. Some of them are also on the spectrum but we never really talked about it. I couldn't think about it. For me, it was something that only happened to others. I did some tests and they came out insufficient. I was just under the red line separating me from autism. Just as I was just under the red line of a high intellectual potential. 

Just as I was just under the red line for everything all my life. 

For years, I thought there was something wrong with me. I always thought it was my fault for not being like others. For being different. For not being able to fit in. That was because I was too shy, too much of a coward. Because I never took any risk ever. And it probably is the case. But I can also say it's because of how I'm trying to be. Someone I'm not. I'm not sure if what I'm saying makes any sense but it's okay. You don't need to get it. I do. What I'm trying to say is there was never something wrong with me, per say. It was just my way of living this life in a way that didn't suit me. I changed a lot throughout the years and I evolved but some things stayed the same within me. 

It's not the autism versus myself. I have to accept this part of me as I accepted the depression and the ADHD. I have to see that because I'm on the spectrum, it doesn't have to mean anything but what I am. There are so many differences between autistic people. Just like everyone else in the world is different, too. I'm not autistic, depressed, mentally ill or anything. In the end of the day, I'm just me and I have to learn how to live with that. I think that's the hardest thing about all of that. I've spent so much time searching for what was wrong with me in order to fix it, I never thought all I had to do was to accept who I am first. 

My therapist asked me if I was mad it took 25 years to diagnose me. I don't think I am. I know some people live all their life without ever knowing. I know people who learn about it when they're children and are treated differently because of it. And people who know and live normal lives. I don't think there's a standard with autism. The way I act can be so different from how my friends on the spectrum can react. Just like with my friends who aren't on the spectrum. 

I only wanted to write a little blog post about perfectionism and I went on a rant about autism but I think I needed to exteriorise these thoughts. I'm not sure I'm making any sense but it's okay. I don't mind. And now, I'm crawling back into bed.