Hot news… I’m not perfect!

Because you know, sometimes it’s good to leave one’s comfort zone and face up to the world. This one is for the many, many unhappy perfectionists I know.  Wishing you all Good Mental Health and your own personal epiphanies!

THE PERFECT MYTH.

I woke up one morning –Tuesday I think it was – with a thought, fully formed in my head, or mind, or brain, or wherever it is thoughts hang out. A realisation. An epiphany, to give it it’s proper name. It was: You’re not perfect and it doesn’t matter. Of course I was talking, or thinking, to myself, so really I meant, I’m not perfect and it doesn’t matter. It’s always hard to know which person you are talking in when you are talking to yourself, isn’t it? Is that why people discourage you from admitting that you do it? That I do it. That we ALL do it, one way or another. We all talk to ourselves and we all hear voices. It’s all a matter of degree. And of telling the truth. To yourself, myself, and others.

Anyway, back to the point. Not perfect. And it doesn’t matter. Not.Perfect. And. It. Doesn’t. Matter. How cool was that? I’d like to say that was the end of it, but in fact that was only the beginning. That was the day I began to explore the perfect myth. Tuesday. Or maybe it was Wednesday. Whatever. It was the beginning of the end for the eternal, impossible quest for perfection. And the end of the beginning of something quite different.

and here’s something written specially for World Mental Health Day (not by me, but I loved it so much I thought it deserved an airing!)

I am

I am lost in the depths of my head

I wonder who else is in with me

I hear rice, rusty railings like rhubarb

I see sounds and silences too

I want to be nothing but normal

I am lost in the depths of my head

I pretend in desperation

I feel the smell of green

I touch the abyss of destruction

I worry for others stuck too

I cry f or what I’ve been missing

I am lost in the depths of my head

I understand real is created

I say I believe in red

I dream in a world of the dead

I try but my effort’s not sated

I hope, but it’s just as I said

I am lost in the depths of my head

(Seoras Muinear)