Maladaptive Perfectionism

addicted to cortisol and for what?

I’m eavesdropping on two men discussing their absence in their daughters’ lives. They’re speaking English, which happens in Los Cabos more than it does in Miami. I imagine their daughters are in the age range of me and my three sisters. I don’t like that they’re whining.

The American says Get this, she asks me for money to buy a leather jacket, can you believe it? a leather jacket. so I tell her I’ll send her the money but only if she sends me a picture wearing the jacket. well guess what, I never got any picture. who knows what she even spent the money on... I am so mad at them, but when I spill some coffee they rush to bring me napkins. As I’m leaving I look back at both of them and tell them I hope they have a nice day and thank you.

I’m having overall a great week with a lot of anxiety. Great because we went to a nice dinner on the anniversary of my surgery. Because everyone was so nice to me and not weird after I hit the neighbor’s car. Because the group chat from Nicole and Fernando’s wedding hasn’t died. Anxious because I dreamt that one of my sisters hates me. Because the incisions still sting sometimes. Because I feel like all I do is buy food but everyday we need more food.

morning of the eclipse hours before I crash the car and Cate ends up in an altercation with the valet guy in Brickell Key

I should know better than to be so arrogant. Should*. I spiral after the car incident even though no one is mad at me and I didn’t get in trouble. I look up a “surrender meditation” on youtube falling directly into an ad convincing me I suffer from cortisol addiction but to be more specific maladaptive perfectionism. I make an account and begin to write everything down so that I can be a perfect student and win. So that I can Identify and chill. Sometimes I really do think our angels infiltrate our algorithms and that in itself may be a cognitive distortion.

Cognitive distortions are like love languages, for stress.

all-or-nothing thinking, overgeneralization, mental filtering, jumping to conclusions, catastrophizing, emotional reasoning, “should”s, labeling, and inappropriate blaming

What do you know about COGNITIVE DISTORTIONS? I send my notes so my friends can diagnose themselves accordingly. Eduardo says he’s 100% addicted to stress it’s reallllyyy bad. Fernando “isn’t” but he stands by us “or whatever”. Cate takes too long to answer because she’s fighting with the valet in Brickell Key and eventually says whats happening but then she says TLDR and I don’t know what that means. Now I do.

Well the conversation shifted and I never got to tell my friends about ANTs. Welcome back to class motherfuckers (they read this). Automatic negative thoughts are not normal thoughts. They are the specific limiting beliefs representing cognitive distortions as broader patterns of thinking.

Normal thoughts float in and out, like clouds. ANTs are sudden and violent, like a sneeze. Boom “I am a failure.” bam “I can’t do anything right.” The trick is to notice the patterns in real time by “observing the triggers” and “listening to your body”.

I wonder if the app I paid $10.50 for a one-week trial will agree with me that my dreams are products of the subconscious therefore part of my brain which is part of my body. I wonder if it would agree with me that I can use a dream as evidence and proof.

When I dream that my sister is upset with me, I wake up and convince myself it’s true. So I text her and ask. While I wait for her reply, I am catastrophizing. The ANTs go marching one by one: “She didn’t text me back; she must be mad at me.” “If someone is mad at me, something is wrong with me.” In the dream she was giving me the silent treatment on a family vacation and when I asked what was going on she yelled I DON’T WANT TO BE AROUND YOU. I find something wrong with what I did or said in every encounter I can remember over the holidays. My stomach begins to hurt.

I realize I’m a really good big sister but maybe not the best little sister. She always loved playing games. She still does. I hated the games, but loved the competition. I still do. But I could never beat her. I could never be first because I was born second. This desire to be first was something I always attributed to my middle child complex and Aries stellium, but apparently, it’s also a symptom of perfectionism.

Perfectionism means setting yourself up for failure — unreasonably high expectations, followed by inevitable frustration and disappointment. The top triggers of perfectionist ANTs are: large overwhelming tasks, high-stakes assignments, performance evaluations, and competitions. Beneath it all is fear. Of course. Because what is scarier than not being perfect?

The app says that the more we can keep track of these thoughts and what caused them the less powerful they will become. Turns out we can free ourselves by writing stuff down.

It’s been three hours and I’m JUMPING to conclusions. I send another text. The verdict is in — she’s not mad. I was wrong. Thank God.

I recover from my luteal eclipse hangover by microdosing psilocybin, making pão de queijo, and reading My Name is Lucy Barton. Mateo wears sunglasses now to chop onions when we make sopita and it’s the best thing ever. Everything he does and says is the best. Sometimes I wonder how I can feel so sad and so happy at the same time.

I’m challenging what I think I know to be true about myself so I’m doing an experiment — I won’t share this on instagram. Validation abstinence, for lent. Of course if you choose to share it I’d repost, I’m not rude.

I text my other sister that I’m sick in the head (ANT!)(clocked it!) and she says you’re not sick in the head I’m sick in the head I had therapy with an AI Bible last night. We’re all looking for answers. Everyone wants a sign.

……..