Skull Bashing
Esteem is something I don't have a lot of, which contributes to my 'self-destructive' nature, in the sense that I push myself a bit too hard to be the best I can possibly be. To the point that I can get erratic, have a mood swing here and there, and be intensely self-critical. While a lot of people commend me for my accomplishments, there's that dark side to it, that if I stop pushing myself whether it be in body or in mind, I'll simply fade away.
This is, of course, the dramatic version of my state, that continuous need to be as perfect as I can be. If I'm not destined to have a long-term meaningful relationship (angsty, ain't I?), then I might as well do my darndest with my idle time, right? While it has been argued that no one can be perfect, I've adhered to the thought that there's no harm in trying. And try I did, with results that I'm at least contented with.
At work today, I wanted to crack my skull against the wall (an exaggeration, but the sentiment is otherwise there). Prospective client needed design studies for evaluation, and what I came up with was one of the crappiest pieces of worthless, uninspired cow dung I've ever made. Sure, time was ticking and there were other projects to worry about, but I wouldn't have any of that. In my mind, I failed. The study was taken away along with the vibrant designs created by my fellow designers, leaving me with nothing left to do but to puff on the ciggies and settle before going for the next project.
I know, it can get that way sometimes. And thank God it doesn't happen everyday.
Esteem is something I don't have a lot of, which contributes to my 'self-destructive' nature, in the sense that I push myself a bit too hard to be the best I can possibly be. To the point that I can get erratic, have a mood swing here and there, and be intensely self-critical. While a lot of people commend me for my accomplishments, there's that dark side to it, that if I stop pushing myself whether it be in body or in mind, I'll simply fade away.
This is, of course, the dramatic version of my state, that continuous need to be as perfect as I can be. If I'm not destined to have a long-term meaningful relationship (angsty, ain't I?), then I might as well do my darndest with my idle time, right? While it has been argued that no one can be perfect, I've adhered to the thought that there's no harm in trying. And try I did, with results that I'm at least contented with.
At work today, I wanted to crack my skull against the wall (an exaggeration, but the sentiment is otherwise there). Prospective client needed design studies for evaluation, and what I came up with was one of the crappiest pieces of worthless, uninspired cow dung I've ever made. Sure, time was ticking and there were other projects to worry about, but I wouldn't have any of that. In my mind, I failed. The study was taken away along with the vibrant designs created by my fellow designers, leaving me with nothing left to do but to puff on the ciggies and settle before going for the next project.
I know, it can get that way sometimes. And thank God it doesn't happen everyday.
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