Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 10

For a perfectionist, creating New Year’s resolutions is an interesting prospect.  Because I tend to see things in extremes, I’ll either set very optimistic, even unrealistic goals.  Or I’ll settle into setting goals that are quite comfortable, that I know I can easily reach.  In my younger years I would typically choose the former.  Now that I’m older, I lean toward the latter.  

Perfectionism sometimes causes me to avoid trying new things because of the fear of failure.  Letting go of the need to be perfect can give me the courage to try these things because failing at them is OK.  

It may be helpful to think of FAIL as First Attempt In Learning.  

I’m so impressed with I talk I recently read; I’d like to share some things that stood out to me.  This talk was given at a devotional earlier this year by Kevin J. Worthen, President at BYU.  It’s called Successfully Failing: Pursuing Our Quest for Perfection.  These quotes are taken from the text of the talk:

Failing is an essential part of the mortal phase of our quest for perfection. We don’t often think of it that way, but that is only because we tend to focus too much on the word perfection and not enough on the word quest. Failure is an inevitable part of the quest. In our quest for perfection, how we respond when we fail will ultimately determine how well we will succeed.

Failing is a critical component of our eternal progress—our quest for perfection. And because of the Atonement we can—if we respond to failures in the right way—be blessed with a new kind of learning that allows our failures to become part of the perfecting process. As Elder Bruce C. Hafen has explained, the beauty of the gospel is that “because of the Atonement, we can learn from our mistakes without being condemned by them.” What a wonderful blessing that absolutely marvelous and indispensable portion of the plan of salvation provides to each of us, if we will but take advantage of it.

In our own personal lives, willful failure in important, routine things we can control constitutes sin, which we should avoid as much as possible. In things that are routine but essential to our eternal progress—things like daily prayer, daily scripture study, and regular church attendance—we should strive to eliminate all failings. In these matters we can come very close to perfection very quickly, and it is important that we do so, because success in these endeavors provides the secure foundation that allows us to deal effectively with the other two kinds of failure.

We should not be so fearful of failing that we avoid trying new or hard things merely because their very newness or difficulty increases the risk of failure. Don’t let concern for protecting your grade point average dictate the courses you take. Challenge yourself, academically and in other ways. You may discover skills, talents, and joys you would otherwise miss out on. Your mortal experience will be a more productive part of your quest for perfection if you intentionally stretch yourself with new challenges, especially those that involve a real risk of failure.

Finally, we can be assured that however we have failed, it can, from an eternal perspective, be changed. The Atonement is that powerful and that comprehensive. As Elder Jeffrey R. Holland put it: 

If you are lonely, please know you can find comfort. If you are discouraged, please know you can find hope. . . . If you feel you are broken, please know you can be mended.

Because of the Atonement, all failures are changeable and temporary, except the one that occurs when we give up. So whatever you do, don’t you dare give up.

Too often we ask the wrong question when we fail. We ask, “Am I good enough?” But the real question is, “Is God good enough?” Is He as good as He says He is? Can He really deliver on His promise that “all things” will “work together for [our] good” if we will trust Him and strive to do the best we can and keep going whenever we fall short?
I testify that He is. God is as good, as powerful, as loving, as patient, and as consistent as He says He is. He gave His Son so that we might move forward in our quest for perfection with full confidence and assurance that we will succeed despite our failures.

What powerful truths!  This talk puts me in the right frame of mind to create my resolutions.  I won’t be so afraid to try new or difficult things, because even if I fail, I’ll be learning valuable lessons in the process.  

I also really love this quote by Pres. Monson: Our task it to become our best selves. One of God’s greatest gifts to us is the joy of trying again, for no failure ever need be final.  

To be continued . . . with Part 11.

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 9

Sometimes it’s hard to see that I actually am making progress in my struggle with perfectionism, that I really am “in recovery.”  So when I see evidence, it’s healthy for me to acknowledge it and to also recognize from whence those positive changes come—the Lord changing my heart.  Here are a few instances where I’ve recently seen the hand of the Lord in my life:

The Isaiah Chapters

In the past when I’ve read the Isaiah chapters in 2 Nephi, I’ve approached them with apprehension.  It seems that the main theme was God’s fierce anger and how He would burn the wicked as a stubble.  Of course, I always included myself among the wicked, because I wasn’t perfect.  But this time, I got a whole different message from these chapters:  The Lord would be born of a virgin—the Prince of Peace and Light of the World, He would gather scattered Israel, restore His gospel—a marvelous work and a wonder, build a latter-day temple, and bring a peaceful millennium where the earth will be full of the knowledge of Him.  I didn’t really plan to see these chapters differently, it just happened.  I saw more of the “good” prophecies.  

Music in My Life

I’ve always been musical.  Growing up, my family members all sang and played musical instruments.  I played the trombone in the band since 6th grade through high school, including marching band, pep band, concert band, and jazz band.  I sang in the concert choir and madrigal group in high school.  My brothers and I sang a lot of barbershop.  I was assistant director of the choir in college.  I sang with the BYU Young Ambassadors (that’s me just left of center in the photo) and in the Mormon Youth Chorus.  I wrote songs and recorded an album that was distributed by Deseret Book.  I directed a fireside singing group “Listen,” a Christmas performing group “Spirit of the Season,” and a vocal jazz group “Singcopation” for many years. And I was the Ward Choir Director for over four years.

All this time I’ve approached music from primarily a left-brain stance.  I would notice the choral structures, the instrumentation, the rhythms, the order of the pieces in a program, etc., for the most part analyzing the music.  

But lately I’ve experienced music in a more aesthetic way.  I notice the beauty, the message, the spirit, and the way it makes me feel.  This is new to me.  It’s more creative and less intellectual.  I really like it.  

Self Worth

Because my primary love language is words of affirmation, I have tended to crave praise and verbal “pats on the back.”  If I accomplished something and nobody mentioned that I had done a “good job,” I’d wonder about my self worth.  I would easily become defensive if I felt someone was being critical of me.  

It’s a pride issue and I’m not claiming to be over it.  But it’s not as important to me as it used to be.  The more I feel good about myself—that I’m valuable just the way I am—the less I need to rely on the praise of the world to give me my sense of worth.  

The Race of Life

Here’s a great quote I like by Pres. Uchtdorf:  “This race of discipleship is not a sprint; it’s a marathon. And it makes little difference how fast we go. In fact, the only way we can lose the race is by finally giving in or giving up. As long as we continue to rise up and move toward our Savior, we win the race with our torches burning brightly. For the torch is not about us or about what we do. It is about the Savior of the world. And that is a Light that can never be dimmed. It is a Light that swallows the darkness, heals our wounds, and blazes even in the midst of the deepest sorrow and unfathomable darkness.”

To be continued . . . with Part 10.

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 7

One of the interesting things about perfectionists is that most of us don’t even realize our thinking is faulty.  We assume that everyone else feels the same way about striving to be perfect.  

A friend recently shared with me this story:

“When I was a college student, I met regularly with a campus counselor.  On one of our visits, he read to me this narrative:

Patty Perfect hails from Salt Lake City, Utah.  She’’s married and has ten children.  Even though she’’s a stay at home mom, she manages to keep busy.  Her typical day begins around 5:30am when she gets up and reads nine chapters from the scriptures.  After jogging twelve miles, she’’s home in time to make a hearty, healthy breakfast and oversee the practicing of musical instruments by her children.  Once breakfast is over, family scripture study completed, children and husband sent off to school and work, Patty takes the five younger children with her as she does her visiting teaching.  Arriving home in time for lunch, she saves time by also preparing the week’’s dinners in advance while the smaller children teach each other the alphabet.  Then the children go down for naps while Patty has a few moments to herself.  She likes to spend her free time sewing clothes for the whole family and baking whole wheat bread.  As the older children arrive home from school, she treats them to milk and freshly-baked cookies before helping them with their homework and science fair projects. Her favorite time of the day is when she’’s cleaning the house because “cleanliness is next to godliness.”

“The counselor then asked me, ‘What’s wrong with that story?”  I answered, ‘Uh . . . I don’t see anything wrong with it.  It sounds like she’s really got her life in order.   That’s the kind of person I’d like to be!’  He responded, “Well . . . I can see we’ve got work to do.”  

It wasn’t obvious to my friend how totally unreachable the bar was that she had set for herself.

When I was a bishop I had several ward members come to me with these same feelings and I would always give them the pep talk:  “It sounds like you’re being really hard on yourself.  I think you need to be a little more self-compassionate.  You don’t have to be perfect to be worthy . . .”  But it was difficult to apply those same ideas to myself.  It seems that we often can see others as candidates for heaven, but not ourselves.  

For most of my life, I didn’t see my own perfectionism.  I didn’t see my self-expectations as overly high.  The thing that finally helped me to identify perfectionism was the persistent and deep feelings of guilt, shame, and unworthiness.  

Another thing that has helped me is to recognize black & white thinking.  If I were to start to list the expectations I have of myself, I’d probably see words like “always,” never,” “all,” “every,” etc.  It could look like this:  Attend the temple every week.  Visit all of my home teaching families during the first half of the month.  Never engage in gossip or backbiting.  These words show that I’m being extreme in my thinking.  

As I’ve learned to more readily recognize when expectations are unrealistic, I’m able to effectively use “shame resilience” techniques.  And I’m better able to hear the whisperings of the Spirit reconfirming my divine worth.

The Spirit can help us learn to see “things as they really are.”  (Jacob 4:13)

To be continued . . . with Part 8.

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 6

Recently, for our weekly date night, my wife and I attended the popular Disney-Pixar animated film, Inside Out.  We loved it!  Not only was it very entertaining; it was also quite instructional.  It illustrated the significance emotions play in our day-to-day lives.  

Numbing Emotions

In Part 3 of this blog I wrote about the fact that we sometimes tend to numb our emotions, to avoid feeling pain and discomfort.  (See also Of Wounds and Walls in Part 5.)  As children, we were sometimes taught that it’s not OK to express our emotions.  “Don’t be a scaredy cat!”  “Big boys don’t cry!”  “Don’t be angry at your sister!”  So it’s easy to see why it became easier to just suppress those emotions.

I’ve lived the major portion of my life quite numb to my emotions.  It resulted in the inability to connect deeply with others.  

I remember once years ago when a friend of mine, realizing that I had difficulty attaching in relationships, recommended that I read the book “Human Intimacy” by Dr. Victor L. Brown, Jr.  I started reading it and it was like a foreign language, Greek to me.  I had no peg to hang it on.  I got nothing out of it except maybe feeling more shamed.  I was so numb emotionally, I was intellectualizing, trying to understand something in my head, not able to get it into my heart.  Others might try over and over to explain these concepts to me, but for someone so numb, it just doesn’t penetrate.  There’s no way to internalize it.  That was me.  

The Spirit of God Works Through Our Feelings  

Spiritually, there’s a problem with being so numb.  The still, small voice can’t get through very much.  Here’s how it might happen for a perfectionist:

I try to do my best to keep all the commandments.  I do all of the basics religiously -- read my scriptures, pray, hold Family Home Evening, attend my meetings, serve others, etc.  And I’m hoping to feel joy.  

But because I’m numb to me emotions, I’m not getting any spiritual nourishment.  Those things become more and more frustrating.  

So I decide that I must need to read an extra chapter in the scriptures every day, fast twice a month instead of just once a month, pray harder, go to the temple more often . . .

I’m doing all of the “primary” expectations, but I’m not getting anything.  I want it to be a cure all but is’t not working.

One of the problems with not being able connect with others, is that I also am not able to connect well with the Lord.  Maybe there’s been a father-injury.  We not only experience that with our earthly fathers, but we also can experience that with our Heavenly Father.  Often times there’s resentment.  

And to avoid feeling pain, we sometimes go into promise-making:  “God, if I do these five things that I’ve been counseled to do time and time again, and do them religiously and without fail (taking that perfectionistic stance), then you will reach down and remove this adversity from me.  And then I’ll know you exist.  Then I’ll be more faithful, more certain in my faith.”

But that doesn’t work very well.  That’s not His way.  

Certainly, in certain circumstances He could do that.  But to develop that intimacy with Him, He wants us to come to Him in meekness, in humility, not demanding certain outcomes.  He wants us to recognize our absolute dependence on Him.  This is at odds with our perfectionism.  We feel like we need to be perfect, to be self-sufficient (self-righteous) before we can approach Him.

The Paradox

I love the teachings of Pres. Uchtdorf about our relationship with God:

“While we may look at the vast expanse of the universe and say, ‘What is man in comparison to the glory of creation?’ God Himself said we are the reason He created the universe! His work and glory—the purpose for this magnificent universe—is to save and exalt mankind (see Moses 1:38–39). … Our Heavenly Father created the universe that we might reach our potential as His sons and daughters.

“This is a paradox of man: compared to God, man is nothing; yet we are everything to God. While against the backdrop of infinite creation we may appear to be nothing, we have a spark of eternal fire burning within our breast. We have the incomprehensible promise of exaltation—worlds without end—within our grasp. And it is God’s great desire to help us reach it” (Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “You Matter to Him,” Ensign, Nov. 2011, 20).

As I learn to identify, honor, and appropriately express my emotions, I open up myself to the possibility of feeling true joy. I also allow myself to feel God’s Spirit more in my life.

To be continued . . . with Part 7.

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 5

I’m on my stake High Council, which means I speak at each of the wards in the stake once a year.  In my preparations for speaking I typically contact the bishop and ask if there is a particular topic he would like me to address.  Usually they say to just talk about whatever I’ve been studying.  I make it a matter of prayer so I can hopefully do the Lord’s will in each instance.  Every time this year so far, I’ve been able to choose my own topic.  And since Perfectionism has been a major part of my study lately, in each ward I’ve felt impressed to speak on Perfection.  

It isn’t your typical High Council talk.  It’s quite soul-baring for me, since I’ve lived in this stake for more than 20 years and know many of these people.  I basically share my story (see Part 1 of this blog) and then supplement it with scriptures and illustrations, as I feel prompted.  

It’s remarkable to see how many people talk with me afterward saying essentially “You really get me,” and asking for a copy of the talk.  So I point them to this blog.  

When I feel that someone understands me, there’s an immediate connection with that person.  In our interactions we can usually skip from square one to square two or three.  So as these people look me in the eye, I see deeper than I normally would.  

Here are a few examples of what has happened as a result of these speaking assignments:

A sister emailed me and said that she “desperately needed” the message.  She suffers from PTSD as well and had been experiencing flare ups.  She was grateful to know that someone else understands some of what she is going through.

A bishop’s wife told me that the talk was “an answer to prayer.”  Their son is very talented and smart.  But it seems like it is “never good enough” for him.  They had known about their son’s challenge for some time, but didn’t have a name for it and didn’t know how to help him.  They had been praying for help.  He has since been meeting with a therapist and is progressing.  

Right after the closing prayer, a young man came up to me and asked if I would give him a priesthood blessing.  I must have hesitated because he said, “Your talk was my life story.  I trust you to give me a blessing, because you understand me.”  I asked, “Right now?”  “Yes,” he replied.  We found a room in the building that was vacant and his wife joined as I gave him the blessing.  Because I have such strong feelings about this issue, I was afraid that I might say what I wanted him to hear and not what the Lord wanted me to say.  But I felt that the words were inspired.  We all cried.  Afterward, we talked for awhile.  I agreed to be a mentor for him and we have met since to discuss his challenges and progress.  (Disclaimer:  I have not received any training as a therapist or a counselor.  So my mentorship is based solely on my own research and experience.)  

One thing I learned from this experience with this young couple:  As much of a challenge as this is for the perfectionist, it is equally challenging for the spouse.  Because I had been numbing my feelings for years, my wife was experiencing a husband who was detached emotionally.  Where does that detachment and lack of connection come from?  

Here’s how the story played out for many of us:

Of Wounds and Walls

Because of childhood wounds, we saw the world as an unsafe place.  And so we built walls to protect us from the pain.  These wounds and walls were often subconscious.  We weren’t aware of what was happening and were too young to understand it.

The wounds caused us to start to numb ourselves to the pain.

The walls caused us to isolate ourselves.  We lost the ability to bond, attach, and connect with others.  We felt flawed, broken, defective, and unlovable.

We moved in to survival mode.

We created false selves—masks, facades, projections of a happy and “good” kid.

We worked hard to appear like everything was OK, like we had it all together.  

All the while, we felt more and more ashamed of who we were.

Learning to Be Authentic

To learn to live authentically, we needed to make changes both internally and interpersonally.

Internally, we needed to become whole within ourselves and accept ourselves totally, rather than repressing, or hiding parts of ourselves. It required the capacity to feel and tolerate the full range of our own feelings, which can sometimes seem conflicting, confusing, and painful.  And it required the ability to integrate these feelings, along with our beliefs about ourselves, others, and the world into a personality that could meet the challenges of life and relationships.

Interpersonally, we needed to develop the ability to be fully present and assertive in relationships to the degree appropriate and to respond out of our genuine selves in those relationships.

This entire process required facing fear in a profound and new way. We had to let down our defenses in order to re–enter internal conflicts that we had previously considered too painful to touch. And we needed to venture into the areas where illogical, uncomfortable, and unpredictable emotions exist.

We then began to carry our newfound assertiveness and clarity into the real world of relationships. We begin to allow others to see our feelings in the present. We become able to reveal ourselves to others and stay in relationships rather than defensively detaching.

To be continued . . . with Part 6.

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 4

Perfectionism is not so much a physical affliction, but an affliction of the mind and the heart.  To recover from this affliction, we need healing in both the heart and the mind.  

Healing in the Heart

About a month ago I had a very emotionally intense experience.  (The experience is a whole ‘nother story, which I may write about at some time in the future.)  It was heart-rending and heart-healing.  I was able to face some core emotions that had been blocking my progress.  As a result, since then, I’ve been better able to recognize the difference between the old stoic intellectually-motivated man, and the new learning-to-be-open-hearted man.  I find myself being more heart-felt in my responses to others.  I enjoy feeling this way.  This is progress.

President Boyd K. Packer taught the following powerful idea: “True doctrine, understood, changes attitudes and behavior. The study of the doctrines of the gospel will improve behavior quicker than a study of behavior will improve behavior.” (Boyd K. Packer, “Do Not Fear,” Ensign, May 2004, 77.)  

I’d like to emphasize the “understood” part of the above quote.  For most of my life I thought that understanding was what happened in my head—intellectually.  But the scriptures teach that understanding really happens in our hearts.  (These scriptural examples were cited by Elder Bednar in a Ricks College Campus Education Week Devotional in June of 1999.)

• Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? Or who hath given understanding to the heart? (Job 38:36)
• My mouth shall speak of wisdom; and the meditation of my heart shall be of understanding. (Psalms 49:3)
• So that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding. (Proverbs 2:2)
• Ye have not applied your hearts to understanding; therefore, ye have not been wise. (Mosiah 12:27)
• . . . but that you should hearken unto me, and open your ears that ye may hear, and your hearts that ye may understand, and your minds that the mysteries of God may be unfolded to your view. (Mosiah 2:9)
• And the multitude did hear and do bear record; and their hearts were open and they did understand in their hearts the words which he prayed. (3 Nephi 19:33)

So, although I previously had a cognitive knowledge that I’m God’s son and that He loves me, I didn’t really understand it until I started feeling it in my heart.  

Healing in the Mind

We know that the Savior can heal our hearts—He said that He is come to bind up the brokenhearted.  But we also need him to heal our minds.  

When Joseph Smith was in the Liberty Jail, the Lord told him:  “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; . . .  The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth.” (D&C 121: 45-46)

I love what Elder Holland has to say about this:  “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.  That is . . . good counsel . . . for all kinds of gospel thoughts, good thoughts, constructive thoughts, hopeful thoughts.  Those faith-filled thoughts will alter how you see life’s problems and how you find resolution to them.  “The Lord requireth the heart and a willing mind,” (D&C 64:34) the revelations say.  Too often we have thought it was all up to the heart; it is not.  God expects a willing mind in the quest for happiness and peace as well.  Put your head into this.  All of this takes effort.  It is a battle but a battle for that is worth waging.  (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, “Living after the Manner of Happiness,” BYU-Idaho Devotional, 23 Sep 2014.)

Those of us with perfectionism often have “stories”—thoughts, beliefs—that we tell ourselves, but which are distressing and keep us from progressing.  These are mental.  So understanding how to challenge those stories can be helpful in getting past the blockages.  I recently found the work of Byron Katie which teaches a simple method for allowing us to identify and question these old stories.  I highly recommend it.  

The Lord does require both the heart and the mind in our efforts to come unto Him.  

To be continued . . . with Part 5.

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist - Part 3

As a child, I remember listening to adults pray, and learning certain phrases from them such as “bless us that no harm or accidents may befall us” and “bless this food that it will give us nourishment and strength.”  One of these was asking God to forgive us of our sins.  But often it was coupled with other words, so I would hear “forgive us of our sins and shortcomings” or “forgive us of our sins and imperfections” and even “forgive us of our sins and weaknesses.”  

So the idea was that I needed to repent of not only my sins, but also my weaknesses.  This led to seeing weakness as a sin, which is a destructive mindset.  It became more confusing when I read in Ether 12:27 that the Lord gives us weakness.  

So I was very grateful to see in last month’s Ensign this excellent article:  It Isn’t a Sin to Be Weak by Wendy Ulrich.  She helps us to see that limitations and inadequacies are not sins and do not keep us from being clean and worthy of the Spirit.  If you haven’t read the article, I invite you to take a few minutes and read it.  

As I've understood more about this concept, Ether 12 makes more sense.  The Lord gives us weakness not that we we need to repent of it, but so that it makes us humble and brings us to Him and  His enabling power.  Then He doesn't remove our weak things; He makes them strong.

Claiming Shame

There’s a difference between guilt and shame.   Guilt is about my actions and behavior.  Shame is about me, as a person.  Guilt says, “I made a mistake” or, “I did something bad.”  Shame says, “I am a mistake” or, “I am bad.”  Guilt can be beneficial when it causes us to repent of wrong-doing.  But shame is never beneficial.

When I first heard about the effects of shame years ago, I didn't think it applied to me.  After all, I was optimistic and upbeat in my disposition.  I spoke self-affirmations to myself to keep me positive.  I was always saying things like, “It’ll all work out,” or, “Everything’ll be OK, just wait and see.”

But as I read the writings of Brené Brown, I started to see that shame was the basis of my perfectionism.  The less we talk about shame, the more we have it.  The more we talk about shame, the less control it has over our lives.  So as I’ve begun to talk about it, I really have noticed that it is decreasing.  I feel more authentic.  I’m able to have greater empathy for others.  I feel that I’m worthy of love and belonging.  

Shame is universal and one of the most primitive human emotions that we can experience.  (Think of Adam and Eve when they became aware that they were naked.)  The only people who don’t experience shame lack the capacity for empathy and human connection.

Sometimes we may want to think that shame is only felt by those who have suffered horrible traumas.  That isn’t true.  We all experience it.  And while we tend to think that shame is relegated to the dark closets of our lives, it actually makes itself known in more common areas:  appearance and body image, parenting, work, money, health, aging, addiction, religion, etc.

Shame thrives in an environment of silence, secrecy, and judgment.  Under these conditions, shame becomes toxic.

The opposite of shame is empathy.  On a continuum, with shame on one end and empathy on the other, the control knob that moves us from one side to the other is vulnerability.  The less vulnerable I am, the more I am on the shame side.  The more vulnerable I am, the closer I get to the empathy side.  

Numbing My Emotions

It’s hard to go through life feeling that I’m “bad” and that I’m a disappointment to God and others.  So I learned how to numb those emotions.  The problem with this is that we can’t selectively numb emotions.  I can’t say, “I think I’ll numb shame, anger, insecurity and regret, but I’d like to still feel happiness, excitement, gratitude and peace.”  When I choose to suppress any emotions, I suppress them all.  Consequently, I also suppressed my ability to feel the Spirit.  And that’s a lonely and dangerous place to be.  

Taken to an extreme, this is where addictions show up.  We anesthetize to make us feel good.  The world uses alcohol, drugs, sex, pornography, gambling, etc.  I could never go there, because those were obviously against the rules.  But there are other addictions that are easier to justify:  staying busy, keeping control, compulsive shopping, food, extreme exercise, caretaking, being organized, and social networking.  These are harder to see as potentially destructive.  

So as I've begun to allow myself to feel again, I’m better able to recognize and label my emotions.  The “negative” ones are less threatening to me.  And I’m learning better ways to express them.  

Black-and-White Thinking

Part of my OCD is the tendency toward all-or-nothing thinking.  I have to be perfect or I’m a failure.  It’s like there’s no middle ground or gray area.  I use words like “always” and “never,”  “ultra” and “uber.”  Life is either wonderful or horrible.  If I’m not excellent at something, then I’m simply mediocre, which is as bad as being awful.  

This thinking is also tied into comparison and competition.  I’m always aware of how others are doing and how my performance compares with theirs.  If I’m only getting the 2nd highest grade in a class, it’s devastating.

Since I've recognized this tendency in myself, I’m better able to be content with lowered expectations.  When I hear my mind thinking in black and white, I know how to talk back in appropriate ways.  One scripture that helps me here is that “it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength.”  (Mosiah 4:27)

To be continued . . . with Part 4.