I sit on the fence between complete introversion and obnoxious extroversion. I want to enjoy life, to laugh, to experience. The problem is that the more that I branch out the more fear that I carry. Fear that I am doing more harm than good with my life. And that would be normal if the fear stopped where most people's fear stops--mine, however extends to even the smallest of things. I become more afraid the more moments I choose to speak, the more I exist and breathe and take up space. You see, I have a dangerously tender heart. I don't mean this to be boastful but rather, to explain that it is my deepest desire to leave this earth and its people unaffected by my poison. It destroys me when I realize that I create negative ripples. Even the thought that people spend any amount of time annoyed by me or hating me is terrible, because I don't want any negativity to be brought on by my existence. Although, I am aware that part of this is egotism, because clearly, many people will not even take the time to think of me, negatively or otherwise.
The funniest thing about this is that I am also an increasingly negative person. How does an inherently "glass half empty" person avoid doing harm? That's the overarching question of my life. My best answer has been in becoming as invisible as possible. But then, how do you, in turn, do any good? I don't know that it's possible to be both hidden and helpful. And my goal in life isn't just to do no harm but to then, do good. I have yet to figure out how to accomplish both of those goals without tearing my soul apart, and the result is that I am becoming increasingly paranoid and sensitive. It certainly doesn't help that I'm also very perceptive. I know when people don't like me or when they find me insufferably weird or when they wish I would leave. It doesn't hurt me in the sense that I don't feel any worse about myself--I have a very developed sense of self-loathing. No, it makes me feel like a failure. I have two goals in total, and I so often fail to meet them.
I think, another facet of this is my obsessive perfectionism. It worsens as I age. Whether it's skipping a class to spotlessly clean the apartment or mapping out every second of every day and allowing zero flexibility, the extremes are widening. To me, perfect is equal to worthy. Imperfection is the same as worthlessness. Maybe it's the Virgo in me or the INFJ or whatever personality profile you'd like to choose, but whatever it is it is eating away my spirit. I am doing harm by existing. I am terribly imperfect, and so mistakes cut deeper each time.
But there is something that I am realizing in all of this--the real problem is my pride. Now, I've never thought of myself as prideful, mostly because I've always been incredibly self-deprecating. Tearing yourself down means humility, right? Wrong! Ask C.S. Lewis, and he'll tell you that humility is really just admitting and walking in the fact that nothing we do is through our own power but rather, through the power of God working through us. The opposing ideas to humility are arrogance and self-deprecation. Yes, perfectionism is prideful. Why? Because condemning oneself for imperfection is implying that you feel superior in the first place. Why do I expect to be above the human condition? I am human. This doesn't mean I settle where I am, but it does mean that I am not going to be perfect. The fact that I think I should be perfect is all pride, and that same pride is then hurt when I don't live up to my own expectations.
I realize this, but what can I possible do but submit to God? Well, here's the thing: God and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. I don't know how to feel about him or about Christianity. I am becoming more and more aware of the contrived, scripted nature of Christendom. Nothing seems real. Nothing seems sincere. I don't want to sing the songs if I don't believe it. I don't want to watch people lead me if I don't think they believe the words either. It's all so wrong. I certainly believe in God, but I just don't buy into the traditional ways of Christianity anymore. Where is the humanity in it all? They're just as perfectionist as I am, and it feels pretentious. How do I find healing for my perfectionism if they require it. Maybe someday I'll understand how I'm supposed to feel. For now, I just feel like a heathen, because I don't know what I believe. The only thing I know for sure is that I believe in God's love. I haven't yet reached the point that I experience a loving God as my own, but I will always practice God's love. It is the only thing worth doing. Loving people is my favorite part of what it means to follow God. The other things may come with time. We shall see.
Until I figure it out, I suppose I will continue to be paranoid, to be overly-sensitive, to be increasingly invisibly. But I will make my best attempts to remain loving, because there is so much brokenness on the planet, and it burdens my heart.
