A Right to Do Wrong
I was washing some fruit to eat with the hazelnuts that I roasted yesterday. The weather outside was calm and warm. I was home alone and wanted to spare this day to myself without considering any responsibilities or to-do lists. I wanted today to be a day that I only do the things I like. But, suddenly, while washing the fruit, I found myself crying on the floor next to the kitchen counter. I collapsed like a potato sack, drowning in my mind with all the things I overthought, crying aloud. For a while, I talked nonsense, rebelled against life, and hated everything while also trying not to be so unfair to myself. I stayed there. There were many reasons to feel like that, but at the same time, there were none. On top of that, it had been a while since I broke down like that, without control. Without control. Is being unhappy something to control all the time? Isn’t falling sometimes and being unable to come up a part of being human?
I didn’t cry for hours. Neither did I contemplate imaginary worst-case scenarios for hours. An unfortunate thing that I thought about did not bring another. I had already been training my mind for that. I told myself that being alone right now was not good. So I ran to my phone. I called a close friend first and cried to her. Crying didn’t feel so bad when there was someone to listen. In fact, I was relieved. Then, I called my dad. I wanted to cry to my dad a little because this was not a privilege I had when I was a child. It never was. (I’d like to emphasize that I’ve used the word privilege because I had always had to be strong for my parents when I was little. This is another day’s issue or maybe another therapy session’s issue.) But I’m glad that I called him. I’m glad I cried to him. He got me face to face with something that I couldn’t realize:
I drown while trying to do my best. I always try to do everything in the best possible way, if necessary by sacrificing my own well-being. I always think like crazy for hours before making a decision, revising every little detail, and trying to minimize the risks. I don’t know how I couldn’t see the pressure this has created on me.
Why don’t I give myself a chance to go wrong, fail, or screw up? Why do I have to be perfect? Why do I agonize over being perfect? Even shopping for the smallest thing, I buy after I check every feature of every product and research like forever. I never give myself the freedom of doing something that I’ll regret. Why am I too scared to make a mistake?
Fears and control are today’s highlights. And, yeah, my dad randomly told me “You never give yourself a right to be wrong” and I, in that brief moment, was enlightened. I, frowning and holding the phone to my ear, spaced out for a few seconds. Because he was right. I do every little job as if my life depended on it. Then, naturally, when something goes wrong, I get extremely stressed and don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I couldn’t realize this all this time.
But my heart lightened. And I was surprised. I spent my years living breakdowns like today every day, without talking to anyone. It is not something that can suddenly change, but I already know that I’m transforming. Also, I love who I am now, not the person I am transforming into. And, as a human being in this miraculous life, I can clearly see that breaking down is just as ordinary as laughing out loud with joy.
Now I’m gonna go and eat the fruit I washed and the hazelnuts I roasted. And who knows, maybe I will make a big mistake.
I didn’t cry for hours. Neither did I contemplate imaginary worst-case scenarios for hours. An unfortunate thing that I thought about did not bring another. I had already been training my mind for that. I told myself that being alone right now was not good. So I ran to my phone. I called a close friend first and cried to her. Crying didn’t feel so bad when there was someone to listen. In fact, I was relieved. Then, I called my dad. I wanted to cry to my dad a little because this was not a privilege I had when I was a child. It never was. (I’d like to emphasize that I’ve used the word privilege because I had always had to be strong for my parents when I was little. This is another day’s issue or maybe another therapy session’s issue.) But I’m glad that I called him. I’m glad I cried to him. He got me face to face with something that I couldn’t realize:
I drown while trying to do my best. I always try to do everything in the best possible way, if necessary by sacrificing my own well-being. I always think like crazy for hours before making a decision, revising every little detail, and trying to minimize the risks. I don’t know how I couldn’t see the pressure this has created on me.
Why don’t I give myself a chance to go wrong, fail, or screw up? Why do I have to be perfect? Why do I agonize over being perfect? Even shopping for the smallest thing, I buy after I check every feature of every product and research like forever. I never give myself the freedom of doing something that I’ll regret. Why am I too scared to make a mistake?
Fears and control are today’s highlights. And, yeah, my dad randomly told me “You never give yourself a right to be wrong” and I, in that brief moment, was enlightened. I, frowning and holding the phone to my ear, spaced out for a few seconds. Because he was right. I do every little job as if my life depended on it. Then, naturally, when something goes wrong, I get extremely stressed and don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I couldn’t realize this all this time.
But my heart lightened. And I was surprised. I spent my years living breakdowns like today every day, without talking to anyone. It is not something that can suddenly change, but I already know that I’m transforming. Also, I love who I am now, not the person I am transforming into. And, as a human being in this miraculous life, I can clearly see that breaking down is just as ordinary as laughing out loud with joy.
Now I’m gonna go and eat the fruit I washed and the hazelnuts I roasted. And who knows, maybe I will make a big mistake.
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