Not-Enoughness
Does that feeling of perfect completion ever arrive? And other musings on my addiction to productivity.
Welcome to Are You Mad At Me? — a weekly newsletter about anxiety, perfectionism, self-esteem, living with unanswered texts, recovering from people-pleasing and becoming better friends with ourselves.
It’s Sunday night, 8:41 and I’m slowly eating my dinner. I just spent an hour cooking a homemade Moroccan butternut squash & lentil stew. There are fresh flowers in the vase right in front of me, and a fridge full of well-organized Trader Joe’s groceries. I worked out. I did laundry. I spoke to 2 friends, meditated, took a bath (and even shaved, which is an achievement). And yet, I spent the last 2-3 hours with a flutter in my chest and a gripping in my solar plexus. “Is it the sunday scaries?” I wondered (or Sunday Blues/ Sunday Sads as I often coin them because the feeling isn’t always fear. Sunday is multi-talented at conjuring up a plethora of uncomfortable emotions).
I tried to relax. Look around at my clean apartment that I love. Say a couple gratitudes. Breathe. But the heart racing continued.
I’ve learned that fight or flight is a state our nervous system goes into when we perceive danger - real or imagined. In an ideal world, that hyper-vigilant, “something is very wrong” feeling would only occur in a near-death experience or while being chased by a tiger. But for those of us with anxiety, a lot of things can feel like danger that aren’t — An unanswered text, an unchecked to-do list, a parent’s disappointed facial expression. Even the calm experience of joy can feel threatening because it’s unfamiliar and frankly confusing after years of having the volume levels inside of me turned all the way up. I’ve been taught over the years that just because my body is telling me something scary is happening, doesn’t mean that it is. But that’s very hard to believe when I’m sitting on my West Elm couch, watching reruns of Sex and the City and literally nothing is actually wrong. But I feel like I am not safe, I have done something wrong and something bad will or is already happening.
I call this “Sunday Not-Enoughness Syndrome,” except that I can experience it on pretty much any day that ends with Y. The symptoms are as follows:
a generalized sense of dis-ease that I can’t quite pinpoint because (per the above) nothing is wrong.
A feeling like I’ve missed something — like something should have gotten done that didn’t, or I missed the mark some place and I can’t remember where
A disappointment that there is no more time to “catch up” and “be on top of” life because it’s already Sunday.
A fear that there is never enough time to perfectly tend to every garden in my life equally (in my dream world each day would be perfectly balanced between workouts, cleaning my apartment, my job, my writing, dating, socializing, my spiritual life, my family)
A nagging feeling that I should feel guilty because I’ve done something I shouldn’t have or didn’t do something I should have and an even more nagging belief that it’s up to me to figure out what that is.
A deep longing for everything to be perfect. Done. Complete. Clean. Accomplished so that I can let myself “rest”
Is it just me? Do you have any of these symptoms? Is this just my anxiety? Or is it the productivity-obsessed culture we live in that encourages us to capitalize on every waking moment and even every sleeping moment to better ourselves and move forward with the greatest of efficiency. Or do I procrastinate things I have to do because even though I HATE the feeling of guilt and overwhelm and life piling up, I have an unconscious life-long friendship with adrenaline and nervousness and procrastination serves that well-grooved neural pathway.
I called my sponsor the other day to ask her about it, “sweetie, it’s probably all of those things. it’s a mixed bag. figuring it out isn’t the solution”
So here’s what I did to combat today’s not-enoughness flare up…
I put down trying to figure out why I struggle to feel like things are never enough. Why I have a belief that if my life was just “more organized” and “I was less behind,” I’d feel less guilty about watching 3 hours of Bachelor in Paradise. I put down judging myself for the fact that I was judging myself for not getting through the to-do list that floats around in my head between neurons.
I did the opposite of what the not-enoughness was telling me to do. It was telling me to speed up, not get quiet, get more done, make a list, make another list, write “make list” on a list so you can cross something off. It was not telling me to make a cup of tea, cook my moroccan stew and write this newsletter.
I also practiced tapping into the feeling that I am resisting that is driving my compulsion to “get on top of it.” Tara Brach asks “what feels difficult to feel here? what needs your attention.” Like the simmering soup that’s currently on my stovetop, I often have a mixture of a shame and self-aversion stewing. It used to be at a raging boil at ALL times and I need to remind myself that it’s usually at a light simmer now, or not bubbling at all. That is enormous enormous progress and I am proud of myself. But when it simmers, it simmers.
Because here’s the real, I don’t-want-to-say-out-loud truth: I am convinced that if I was perfect, it would be easier to like myself. And easier to give myself permission to just be the messy human that I don’t feel has been “good enough” to earn my own love and tenderness.
Oof. That’s it. Back to the idea of inherent self-worth, inherent goodness. Goodness that doesn’t need to be earned and can’t be taken away. Goodness that doesn’t even exist in the same container as a checklist, or your perception of me, or even my perception of me. Goodness because I am here. I am alive. And I deserve love.
Some beliefs I have about myself, life, being human, feeling better about being human:
May I let go of the lie that I am supposed to be “on top” of my life. What if it’s never supposed to even get to that plateaued, even-keeled place?
May I let go of the belief that I would be allowed to rest if I had only just done “more” or “been more productive.”
May I let go of the fear that I am doing something wrong by not being perfect.
May I let go of the part of me that doesn’t always feel I am worthy of my own loving gaze until I find a way to be less messy, less disorganized, less defensive or scared (aka less human).
This achingly-honest and beautiful essay by Maria Del Russo. I have been following her writing for YEARS and this piece was a true balm to my soul.
Also, the new Taylor Swift album. Sorry not sorry.
Also, my self because I didn’t proofread this newsletter and there’s probably typos and that’s fucking progress.