drerinwatsonDo you ever feel the paralyzing effects of perfectionism?
When I was doing my doctorate, my burnout levels were so high that I ended up having to write my entire dissertation in just 5 minutes each day. Thousands of dollars of tuition for 5 minutes a day. I felt like a sham.
To combat this colossal leak of money and emotional resources, I used to wake up everyday and say “Ok, today I have to write my dissertation.” But the thought of somehow doing justice to 5 years worth of intense research, data, thoughts, and theories was so overwhelming that I would do anything other than my work. I felt the guilt of my work lingering over me all day. I didn’t write, but I didn’t rest either. The burnout intensified.
Much like the concept of “healing from trauma”, the project was too immense; I was too passionate about making sure it was right, making sure it was perfect. After all, the point of a dissertation is to present something to the world that has never been done, has never been known or never been seen before; A new idea, concept, or discovery that changes the way we think about things, the way we behave, the very way knowledge on that subject shifts as a result of your work.
We think about “healing” the same way: a complete transformation of mind, body, spirit, behavior and emotions. A complete overhaul of how we relate to our past and how we envision our future.
That’s a lot of pressure to wake up to every day.
The Risk Of Recovery: Thinking and Planning Versus Taking Action
When I was in my early 30s, I was entering year 13 of specialised training and education (graduate, clinical etc.)
It felt like I hadn’t yet started to live. I had been thinking and learning for over a decade. But not living. Not putting ideas into action. Why? Because things weren’t yet perfect. I didn’t have it all completely figured out yet.
Meanwhile, I watched people my age have families, careers and rise up in the ranks of their life and goals. I watched as many of the ideas I had been sitting on started to get published (afterall, there are many brilliant people out there who are also learning and thinking). But, unlike me, they took the risk to share, to act on their thoughts, to test them out in the world and not hold guard of them until they were just right. I saw the landscape of knowledge change thanks to these other people. I saw people change because they took the risk to try new things for themselves. Yet I continued to wake up thinking “when this is perfect, then I will begin”. Only to find out too late that what I wanted to say and share simply had already been shared and said. And therefore everything I had scaffolded my identity upon had been swept out from under me. I chastised and punished myself but I couldn’t seem to break free from this pattern of fear and perfection.
This isn’t about my dissertation. This is about me not showing up in my own life. About being too afraid to take up space and to take risks. About believing that good enough was not, actually, enough.
Enough for what? More importantly…enough for whom?
Narcissistic Trauma
When you have attachment trauma due to narcissistic abuse, you learn everything you do (from your career to whether you sneezed in a way that was somehow perceived as a covert attempt to insult your mother) is a reflection of you as a person and thus can be used for or against you. If you do things “right” (aka in service to them), you as a person are good enough and safe. If you do things “wrong” (aka in service of you), you as a person are bad and thus unsafe. Who would take risks under these circumstances? Who would feel safe enough to try?
The trauma of narcissistic abuse teaches us to stay small and hide ourself; It teaches us that our actions are a measure of our identity and thus our worth. We learn to not put anything out in the world unless it is just right. Because if it isn’t just right, it means we aren’t just right, and therefore we could be in danger. When we grow up learning that everything we do is a reflection on them and about them (our careers and our sneezes), we can’t help but measure ourselves (our worth and safety) against what they are currently feeling about us in each moment. We are banned from trust in self and are beholden to external opinions. Every moment is an eggshell moment. We hang precariously, suspended between our sense of self and their emotional needs.
Perfectionism is used as a way out of that precariousness. That anxiety.
If you have been a frequent reader of my newsletter or articles then you may have guessed that what I love most are ideas, and making sure ideas are expressed in a way that is hopefully impactful and transformative for others. I really don’t like throwing a newsletter or article out to readers for the sake of it.
Let me admit something right now: I unsubscribe to almost every newsletter I sign up for. Why? Because I genuinely want substance and strategies. If I am getting fluff and sales, I am out. I want to know that the time I take to read something is worthwhile to my soul and to my growth, and I want to make sure that I enjoy the process of reading it.
I’m a tough audience. And in a way, I hope you are too. Because if you are reading this, then that means you also know that your time is valuable and that when you read what I write, you are augmenting the value of your time, not diminishing it. And I thank you immensely.
Because of how much I value ideas, I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to write them just so. When I am not writing, I am coaching. What better way to enjoy ideas than to generate them with others. My clients and I mutually benefit from exploring the concepts I write about in ways that are tangibly transformative for them: emotionally, mentally and practically.
It’s my dream job. It sounds like I have it together, right? In truth, I have yet to develop a sustainable system for myself that balances my passion for writing, my career growth, and my own self-care. Everyday I feel the siren pull towards perfection and I risk burning out even more.
Narcissistic trauma does that. It makes everything 10 times harder and take 100 more steps. The legacy of narcissistic abuse and the messages about being perfect in order to be safe infiltrates almost everything. It has infiltrated my dream job; a place where I should feel safe, confident and autonomous. Where my light shines bright without being diminished or distorted by the narcissistic system.
And yet…here I am on day 3 trying to complete one article.
I am flailing and failing everyday. How about you?
Spiralling: The False Promise and Pressure of Transformation
Do you ever get the feeling that you are never doing anything “enough” or “right”? Do you question yourself at every turn? Do you undermine your accomplishments by saying “But there is so much more I “should” be doing…”
I chastise myself after every article or newsletter I write. For it not being perfect. For not sending it out in time because the pressure of perfection shut me down. For spending too much time — almost half a work week (!!!) — trying to create perfection so that it is quality (enough) to send out or publish. Hours that could be paid hours. For free. What. Am. I. Doing?
I tell myself every week that I have to write something transformative. I have to live up to impossible standards and expectations. I learned my choices are not meant for my happiness, needs, or wellbeing. That I must consider, exclusively, the external opinion and feelings of others. Only they can tell me if I am acceptable enough.
The pressure to do something transformative is too big, too much. In writing and in recovery.
The past few weeks I didn’t write. I didn’t allow myself to send out small notes or check ins. I didn’t allow myself to send out snippets. I didn’t post short articles or helpful strategies. I wanted to ensure the big article I was working on- the big idea that I think could really change things -was finished. And I wanted to pair that article with the corresponding Instagram post..because that’s what I should do, right? I should have a social media plan; Make sure everything fits perfectly together in every perfect way… But since the article wasn’t done (because it wasn’t perfect), the IG post couldn’t be uploaded. So I didn’t allow myself to upload other IG posts either. I stepped in front of my own path and progress repeatedly. I halted myself. I hid. Over and over and over and over.
When we are in recovery, the trap of transformation can become a huge roadblock: When you tell yourself you need to “stop your negative self talk” or “start trusting yourself” or “go complete no contact” or “stop reacting emotionally and stay more neutral when around toxic people”, we are asking for big things. We are saying there is no room for error. And when there is no room for error, there is no room for growth. Therefore there is no point in trying.
And we can’t get anywhere in recovery if we cannot try.
I don’t mean “are unwilling” to try; I know how willing and eager you are. I know that under these conditions of perfectionism — instilled in you as a safety mechanism to survive narcissistic abuse — that you literally cannot take the risk to try. The risk feels much too big. If recovery requires transformation — complete overhauls — then a trap has been set that snares you further in the web of narcissistic abuse. Because to survive the narcissistic system you need to be everything for them. But to survive your life, you need to be everything for yourself.
It’s a clever little Narc machine, isn’t it? When recovery efforts tighten the grip narcissism has on you even further?
Perfectionism is exhausting. It sucks the life out of you.
Perfectionism in recovery can be deadly.
When will it be enough?
When will I get it right?
When will I finally be right and enough?
When can I start living?
You can spend years talking about and learning about recovery, but never living in recovery.
Risking Imperfection as an Important Stage In Recovery
I’ve talked a lot about myself in this piece. Something I try not to do too much of because I want this to be about YOU seeing YOU, and me seeing YOU in ways you haven’t felt seen, heard, understood, validated, respected and accepted before.
But sometimes I can only figure out how to do that by saying: Here is me. Is anyone with me?
So this isn’t really about my dissertation or my ridiculous newsletter and article contortions (seriously, wtf am I doing with my life??)
It is about how I didn’t allow myself to be imperfect.
Scapegoats cannot risk imperfection.
And even when they are “perfect”, the version of perfection they achieved is used against them. How dare they? Suddenly that target is dismantled and a new — completely opposite version of perfection — is constructed.
I have many clients who have shared, for example, that they were told for years to be less sensitive, less emotional, less reactive. And when they perfected near clinical levels of healthy communication strategies, they were told “Why can’t you just be real? Why are you holding everything in? They were chastised for “being pompous” and mocked for being “on their high horse!” All because they tried to do the thing the narcissistic system told them would finally make them safe, loved, and accepted.
So, quite justifiably, scapegoats cannot risk trusting others with imperfection.
Here’s a disclosure: I didn’t trust you, dear audience, to hold me in a space of empathy and compassion (for being late on posting, for having less than perfect articles). I am sorry. Trusting that others see you, like you, value you is still hard when you’ve been told lies about yourself your whole life: things like you’re annoying, not good enough, hard to love, that people don’t really like you, and that you need to earn them and work hard (harder than others) to keep them.
I haven’t published an article in weeks because I didn’t believe that you would feel I was good enough (and worth it, or worth you), unless I was perfect; unless I was everything you needed in exactly the way you needed it. I didn’t want to risk you being disappointed. I didn’t want to risk the negative judgements you would have about me. At that deepest level, I didn’t want to risk your abandonment of me.
Perfectionism isn’t really safe. Nothingness is. So I stayed nothing and I did nothing.
Can you relate to this?
5 Minutes for Recovery
I told you about my crippling perfectionism to showcase how pervasive the effects of narcissistic abuse are. And to remind you that “perfect” is a made up construct utilized in Narcissistic System and Scapegoat Abuse (NSSA) to keep us compliant and out of touch with ourselves, our needs, our boundaries and our identities. To keep us in servitude. To keep us in nothingness.
But you were created for a reason. You are meant for more than nothingness. You are meant for greatness. You being you is important to the world.
I also hoped to highlight that when we hold ourselves to the standards of perfectionism as a coping strategy, we are further entrenching ourselves in the narc machine.
But, I want to validate that staying in servitude, or exchanging your existence for other’s approval is a survival measure that you may have had to-or continue to-utilize. For actual safety.
So where can recovery factor in? If there is very little space to take risks and stay safe, then recovery also needs to be able to fit in those very little spaces. Grand transformations won’t do.
Instead, can you recover in 5 minutes a day?
Listen, I will never promise you something that doesn’t have strategy and substance backing it.
I wrote a 200+ page completely original research study in 5 minutes a day. A lifetime of work, in 5 minutes a day. A huge slog, a huge monumental effort. A massive product. A “transformative” theory. In 5 minutes a day.
Recovery isn’t so far off from that. It is after all your current “life’s work”. It is your new way of knowing, seeing, thinking and believing. It is, in its own way, transformative. Because your smallest efforts have exponential effects.
Sound too good to be true? Well sorta. Let’s be clear: I wrote for 5 minutes a day every day. For a sustained period (years). Until it was done.
I didn’t wake up and “write my dissertation”, I woke up and worked on one sentence or paragraph. The smaller the chunk I was responsible for that day, the more I actually accomplished in the long run. Because I didn’t shut down. So for 5 minutes I wrote, and then I stopped. And when I wasn’t writing, I was resting. I was exploring joy. I was building wholeness and fulfillment in other ways (Jokes! When I wasn’t writing I was watching Netflix and eating my weight in Cheetos. Did I mention I was REALLY BURNT OUT??)
The point is, you don’t have to see your recovery as something monumental and all encompassing. You don’t have to put your life to the side in order to heal. You don’t have to change who you are as a person (you’re just fine as you are). You don’t have to erase your brain and construct a whole new one. You don’t have to scrape out your heart and replace it with some new emotional program. You don’t have to even leave toxicity if you’re not ready to or are unable to yet.
Your recovery isn’t about some grand outcome that you hopefully reach someday. Your recovery is about the 5 minutes every day that you do the small thing. The micro thing. The different from before thing. You do it because it is so small that it is actually sustainable and not overwhelming. Which means you can do it everyday. Which means it becomes a habit. And that habit suddenly is just part of you; the way you think about yourself, the way you interact, the way you make decisions and the decisions you make, the boundaries you assert, the person you are (just as you are). Over time, these grow like ripples in a lake until they fill out every corner of your being. Until you aren’t working towards recovery, you are living recovery.
Recovery isn’t a destination, it is a practice.
Recovery happens when you are living the life you want for you. When you are exactly who you are without explanation or expectation for others. And you can do that, to start, in 5 minute pockets every day.
You don’t wake up and go “How will I recover?”, or “How come I haven’t recovered?” or “I need to recover today, soon, now! This pain has gone on for too long”. You wake up and ask “what recovery practice do I feel ready to explore today? What is one small thing I can do right now to aid in my recovery?”
You can try to compliment yourself for 5 minutes, even if the rest of the day your negative self talk is smothering.
You can read that self help book (or newsletter) for 5 minutes, and the rest of the day you can veg out. You can always come back to it for 5 minutes tomorrow.
You can ask yourself, “what small strategy form that blog do I feel ready and excited to try, for 5 minutes every day?”
You can visualise setting a boundary for 5 minutes. And one day you might set that boundary for 5 minutes.
You can grieve for 5 minutes and then you can compartmentalise.
You are recovering your way. And that is not wrong. You are doing BIG things in short spans of time. YES!
Everyday you are recovering. Everyday you are building, brick by brick, your pathway forward.
And you are doing great. YOU are great.
And if this still feels like too much, too soon? Maybe you need accountability and community support. Maybe you need just a bit more love to help you along the way to remind you just how deserving you are of your amazing future, and to support you in taking the risk to feel whole and happy again.
Maybe the small micro step you take is joining the waitlist for my new Survivor’s Sanctuary: A community of survivors of Narcissistic System and Scapegoating Abuse unlike any other. A place for genuine, meaningful connection, support, accountability and dare I say it? Transformation. A place that feels more like chosen family than family ever did.
It’s not perfectly developed yet. And I think that is exactly what will make it just right for you 😉 Because I will be joining you in that circle. Just as I am. And with all I have to offer.
Are you in? You can add your name to the waitlist here
