The list of all the things I’m failing at
I love making lists. They give me a sense of control over this (oftentimes crazy) life.
So they’re supposed to make my existence a bit easier. But there’s one list that has made my life… to say it politely… so much harder. I just wasn’t aware of it.
For all of my adult life there was this big list in my head I did not allow myself to forget: the list of all the things that I’m failing at. Not failing just a little bit. Failing big time, at normal stuff.
These are some of the items on that list:
working full-time without crashing
saying no to things I don’t want
keeping my house tidy, my administration orderly and my body healthy
taking proper care of myself in relationships
combining a job, hobbies, friends and me-time
staying awake for 15 hours
functioning without antidepressants
I was convinced that if I didn’t keep an eye on these “things I need to get better at” at all times, I would become even more of a failure. The control thing, you know…
And I was wondering why I was exhausted.
There is one single event that changed my view on this list: I got diagnosed with complex post-traumatic stress disorder (complex PTSD).
It isn’t talked about a lot, so here’s a short description:
Complex PTSD is a normal response to chronic traumatization over the course of years. It is most often seen in those whose trauma occurred in childhood. Being at the complete control of another person (often unable to meet their most basic needs without them), coupled with no foreseeable end in sight, can break down the psyche, the survivor's sense of self, and affect them on a deep level. For those who go through this as children, because the brain is still developing and they're just beginning to learn who they are as an individual, understand the world around them, and build their first relationships, severe trauma interrupts the entire course of their psychologic and neurologic development.
I started reading about it, and low and behold: Every Single Item on my ‘I am a big failure list’ is a consequence of having complex PTSD. Every single one. (I still tear up writing this, 2 years after my diagnosis.)
It took a while to sink in that I am not a big failure. My body and mind have been formed to react in a normal way to abnormal circumstances. I can’t begin to express the feeling of the weight of my old list falling off my shoulders.
Why am I telling you this? Because it affects every aspect of my life, including my art. Especially my art. Why I paint, how I paint, what I paint, the fact that I paint.
I’ll certainly come back to that later. For now, this is enough.