I like many others have little parts of myself that I struggle with, when you’ve been ill for a while its like those things become magnified on your toughest days. Leaving your brain all fuzzy and your stomach in knots. For me I struggle with being a perfectionist, in my work, my relationships and especially during events such as Christmas, birthdays and the family holiday we take once a year to see my cousins. I feel as if sometimes people think that my illness becomes easier during these times, that I get a break on the weekends or during school holidays, but my conditions aren’t school work, I can’t send them back if I don’t understand them and they don’t care whether its my birthday or the Queen’s! I’ve been going through a bit of a rough patch this time, determined that when we go on holiday I’m going to be the best version of myself, desperately wanting everything to be dream like and perfect. Like it used to be…until I remember that it never was perfect before, it was wonderful and fun, a chance to escape and have a little home away from home but it was never the effortlessly idealistic time like I build it up to be in my head. There have always been ups and downs and there always will be. That’s what makes life what it is; you can never truly find a beautiful picture without a single flaw, it’s what makes it real.
If there’s one thing that this almost completely sleepless night has now taught me is the worst has happened, I am utterly, completely exhausted and the journey tomorrow will most likely be a mix of fun, feeling like death and being happy to be alive. Because that’s just what I’m doing, I’m living. And living, truly living is the absence of that perfectionist streak. Because your having far to much fun living to think about how your doing it and when you look back, all it will be is a blurry photograph of another time in your life that made you all the more wiser and all the more ready, to live.
"And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good."