Balance

...is my friend. The more I bounce this thought around in my head, the more I like it. This is nothing new. Everything didactic I've read preaches the benefits of balance. But I'm stubborn, and I find it hard to take someone's advice. How dare you tell me what's best. I'll figure it out myself. My history has been that of extremes. Alls or nothings. If I can't do it right, I won't do it at all. And by right I mean perfect, so I continually fail, at everything I do. I want to do everything and I have to do it all perfectly. Those are intimidating plans to wake up to every morning.

By the end of the day I'm berating myself for not fulfilling my expectations. I feel defeated and small. I give up. It doesn't always take the whole day to wear me down, I woke up exhausted today.

The worst of it is, when I've thrown my hands up in the air, "fuck it all," I become a spoiled bitch who'll throw a tantrum at the slightest provocation, complete with crying, stomping around, and slamming doors. The most wonderful man stoically waits out my immaturity and somehow wants to see me the next day.