In the past I've admitted to my "vice" rather smugly. When I do a project, it comes out perfectly right down to the last detail. If it isn't perfect then I am not satisfied with it. I admit, I've always pitied those who are not perfectionists. Those that can do something not quite perfect and still be satisfied.
I've always taken pride in my projects. And, I've always thought that was a good thing. And it is. I think. My problem is the guilt that comes when I'm not perfect.
I've also blamed the guilt on other people. When I fail to get dinner on the table (oh, say, because my son climbed into the refrigerator to get a gallon of apple juice, which ended up on the floor) I feel like my husband is disappointed in me. He isn't, but I put my
I didn't realize that I was doing this. I know. How could I not realize it? Well I didn't. Until now.