I Have an Incurable, Dibilitating Disease

I had been having terrible stomach aches for quite sometime when I finally went to the doctor. I pooped in a cup for him only to be told it wasn't physical, it was mental. If I didn't stop worrying I was going to get an ulcer. I was seven years old.

After a few years the stomach aches tapered off and I forgot all about the doctor visit. I thought it was all bunk anyway because I didn't consider myself a worrier. I've thrown around the term perfectionist instead through the years but I wasn't sure if it fit me because I thought perfectionism was a good thing. It means I'm perfect, which I am definitely not and that fact makes me so angry and scared that I want to scream sometimes. Oh wait, maybe that's what perfectionism really means. It's not a good thing at all. I'm just starting to put this all together at the age of 31.

I had an Aha! moment this week. Maybe Aha! isn't the right term since the realization scared me. It was more like an Oh no! moment. I realized that going back to school is adding a lot of stress and work and fear to my life and it is completely unnecessary. I have put myself into a position for the potential to make a lot of mistakes and be a lot less than perfect and a lot of people will see it and/or be directly affected by it. Oh crap! I can't believe I not only volunteered to do this, but I am also paying to do this. Consider the contrast of what I could be doing instead. Thanks to Jason I could literally never have a job ever again. I could stay safely hidden away in my house and make as few mistakes as possible. No one would grade me. No one could fire me. I could get through these next few years being a minimalist mom and then take it easy for the rest of my life, retiring at the age of 46 or so with a nice, bland permanent record. (See footnote for explanation.)

Instead I have chosen sleepless nights and nauseating anxiety over every quiz and every exam and every sheet of homework. I feel waves of nervous chemicals every time I drive to school. I feel anxious every time I think about starting nursing classes. I feel nervous every time I think about arranging babysitting and paying the tuition and even posting to this blog. I want to vomit when I start to question if this is all one big mistake.

So why am I doing this? I'm hoping the reward is worth the risk. As a perfectionist my fear of making mistakes is almost debilitating at times. But the drive to challenge myself to see what I'm made of is overwhelming. There is a battle going on in me almost constantly between these two forces. When I get an idea in my head, I have blinders on to the rest of the world. I take that idea and I turn it over and over in my head looking at it from every angle and I won't stop until I've decided if it will work or not. If I think something will work, I know it will work and then I won't let anything stop me until I'm done, that includes my intense fear. Occasionally fear wins the battle, like when I'm socializing with women or trying to decide where to eat. Usually determination wins and then everybody needs to get out of the way.

I will be a nurse. (dramatic pause) Oh yes, I will be a nurse...unless this is all one big mistake. I think I'm going to throw up now.

PS: I got 125 out of 120 on my second lecture exam. I can live another day.

PPS: If you are offended that I am making light of actual diseases, remember that tooth decay and acne are considered diseases. I think being easily offended is a disease as well. Seek help.

Footnote: (I'm not suggesting stay-at-home moms take no risks and hide away doing nothing. I'm saying a stay-at-home mom could take that path if she so chooses, hence the name minimalist mom. You hard working moms out there know that as a mom you could take an easy route but you choose not to because you know you get out of it what you put into it. You work hard at being a good mom and take risks quite often. I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about me. Get your own blog.)