I think it's hilarious that I thought I was going to consistently write a blog.

Seriously.

My first post was in March of 2013.

I had such high hopes and good intentions. As I read back through it tonight, it looked so well organized, so well thought out.  I was going to do all these great things and help the perfectionists of the world.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Come on. How delusional am I?

Truth is, I've wanted to write again. I have. I think about it, then I go and do something else.  Why? Because I couldn't figure out the right post.  The right formula.  The right solution that I deemed post worthy. But I was inspired tonight by a blog I stumbled upon: www.theveryworstmissionary.com. As a side note, go check it out.  I really appreciate her  honesty.  Honesty is something I'm a big fan of..... except when it is about me and my "value" and how many people love me and how I'm not actually as bad as I think I am. Blah, blah, blah.

But I was inspired to write tonight.  And guess what?  I am still struggling on this journey. This journey of perfectionism. This journey of anxiety. This journey of depression. I have heard it said that an alcoholic is an alcoholic for life, they just learn to manage it, but it's always there.  I think I believe this about perfectionism (at least today). I think it will always be there, and hopefully, I can learn to manage it.  Or at least allow myself to believe in a lie long enough to take a breath.  I have learned a few things. Better said, I have had some thoughts that sound pretty good every now and then and at other times seem like total bullshit.

Here's a sample of what I've "learned."  1) Who cares?  Who really cares if I am perfect? Well, me.  Anyone else? Nope. I just smile politely at these people and secretly feel superior to them, because I've got it all figured out. Perfectionism is where it's at. No it isn't. Who cares. Sometimes I am the champion of this idea and other times I curl up in the corner like a scared little kid.  2) These standards are my own and they are fantastic! They're also killing me.  3) I am not living as my true self as I continue to chase perfectionism.  I am living the life of an impostor that will only tell you what I think you want to hear.  4)  The worst four letter word is HELP.  Yep, even dirtier than the F word and the C  word combined.  I hate that word. I also hate the idea of it. 5) Vulnerability is terrifying.  I desperately want you to know me even as I want to hide from you forever.  6)  Honesty and vulnerability is healing and helpful (ugh...that word) and when I operate in it with those I kind of trust (yes, "kind of". If you think I have mastered 100% trust yet you are NOT paying attention) it does wonders to lift huge weights of guilt, shame and pain off of my shoulders.  So I am feeling vulnerable tonight, hence my writing.  I'm going to leave you with a few honest thoughts. And let me tell you....I really don't want to, but I have to hope for a little hit of that "healing high."   They are just quick honest statements.  I'm not even going to bother explaining them. I'm just going to tell you.

• I have a deep fear of abandonment.
• The first thought that goes through my head within the first 10 seconds of me waking up in the morning is "you're worthless" (or some variation of this). Every morning. 
• Even if you've known me for years, you've probably only scratched the surface of who I actually am. I have these beautiful walls set up to keep you out.  (The exception to this is my wife. She has a tall ladder and can read my mail like a boss. Even though I do periodically try to hide from her too). 
• I'm convinced I'm fucking up my kids everyday and they will resent me for it later. 
• I love to curse. 
• I believe Jesus loves me about 25% of the time.  I actually care if He does about 50% of the time. 
• Sometimes I'm scared music is a bigger god to me than God actually is. 
• Sometimes I have "George Bailey" moments when I think my life has affected no one for the better. 
• I think about therapy from time to time, but I think those people are probably full of shit. 
• I really do love others. But it is buried deep, deep down under a lot of hurt, pain and anger. 
• It matters to me what you think of me, but I don't want it to matter to me. 
• I do not understand grace. 

I end this post with no deep thoughts or resolve. Except that I hope to post again soon and I hope that if you're on this journey too, you keep walking.

Cheers to the chaos.  Up yours. 

- J. Woods