When Good Enough Isn't Enough

Some people don't get that good enough isn't enough. If it's not one hundred percent, it's zero percent. I don't even get it. But my OCD insists that is how it should be. That it's how is must be. Common sense be damned. If it takes twenty-four tries to wash my hands right, then it takes twenty-four times to wash my hands right.

And it's frustrating. I'm not sure which part is more frustrating. The fact that my mind feels the need for me to repeat these rituals, or the fact that it takes me twenty-four tries to do a task as simple as washing my hands. It's not rocket science. There are even signs in many bathrooms that explain how you should do it (wet your hands, lather on some soap, scrub for approximately twenty seconds, then rinse, and dry). It sounds pretty simple. I'm a moderately educated, relatively sophisticated, young woman, and yet a task like such can reduce me to tears, to a panic that grips my body and makes me act irrationally.

Sometimes I wonder how I will survive college. Sometimes it feels impossible, and other times I feel like I'm on top of the world - nothing can touch me, college is awesome, I'm the bee's knees (or whatever). The times that feel impossible are when I want to crawl into my bed and shut out all noise and visual stimulation. It's a healthy hour to hour fluctuation. I can usually only hope that my perfectionistic compulsions help propel me forward academically, and if not - I'm sure I'll find my passion in something.