All my life I have always aimed at trying to be perfect in everything I do. From sports to my art.
Well mainly because I live in a house full of perfectionists. Starting down from my mom.
For instance, when I was a kid she would come up to my elementary school every day when I was done with recess, just to wash my hands and face, comb my hair, and make sure that I didn’t look dirty after lunch. Because god forbid you looked dirty after recess.:) When I had to do homework my dad would have to check it, and of course it had to be correct, or back to your room until it was right.
Things our parents teach us aren’t wrong or right. Things our parents teach us in life are to always strive for something better. They teach us to get good grades because it will help you get into a good college. They teach us to look perfect for that first interview… because appearance is your first impression. They love us and want us to have great lives. I don’t knock my parents for anything they have taught me. It was just their way.
But now, that I can think for myself (sort of haha) and only ask my parents for their advice when I need it haha… I am always striving for perfection. To the point where it has become obsessive.
The perfect hair.
The perfect clothes.
The perfect dress.
The perfect husband.
The perfect house.
The perfect job.
The perfect life.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
My perfect obsessive compulsive disorder went into full affect after I got diagnosed with diabetes.
One thing about having diabetes means nothing is ever perfect. I try so hard to have perfection and every day just get slapped in the face by these unpredictable numbers.
For the first year and half I wrote everything down. I mean from the minute I woke up till the minute I went bed. I wanted to have blood sugars in range but, it just didn’t happen. It drove me mad. I would cry at a blood sugar that was 200. I even drove my family crazy. My mom would be sitting there trying to figure out all the carbs I ate to help me take the correct insulin dosage. And, after finding that my number would come out high anyway.
Everyday these numbers haunt me in my sleep, while I walk to work, when I am at the gym and when I go out. Why can’t my numbers be perfect. I eat the same time, the same thing, I take the same insulin amount for each meal…
I want perfection.
I try everything and its never enough.