Midnight Thought: On Making Mistakes

"Do not self-diagnose," said the professionals and/or wise people in the name of raising awareness. As a normal being trying to be rational, I've tried my best to listen and copy. Useful information could be found easily all around the internet and it took me less than three seconds to confirm that self-diagnosing was bad. Unfortunately, I am not wise, nor am I a professional, and being curious is a basic human nature—take the time you ignored a horrible sign just to taste your own medicine as a quick example.

I was in my hypnagogic state when I thought all this, almost falling asleep to the sound of chirping crickets far away and the comforting tick-tock from a clock outside my room. To think that you're onto something was one thing, but to realize and ponder it in reverse a moment after was certainly something else. To make it even weirder, the idea bloomed in what I called a fairly stressful situation. Assuming it was only a pillow thought that I was not fully aware of but still half-conscious about, I chose to disregard it. Little did I know that a few days later, it woke something in me, like a hole subjected to change, and everything became naturally easier.

Everyone is imperfect, and so trying to maintain the illusion of perfection in your daily life could eventually turn into impending doom. I’m not saying that I’m a crazy perfectionist—my work desk is a mess, I dislike the idea of me pushing people to achieve a very particular target, and everyone who knows me thinks I’m a bit disorganized. Things that shook me were not caused by ambitions or the desire to overachieve, apparently. I mean, yes, I'm prone to feeling a major deadline panic—I will usually stay as late as possible to finish what I have started. But mostly, they were little things like these instead: finding out that my little cousin was engaged at the age of seventeen while I still don't know what to order for lunch, or moving back and forth in silence because the pictures I took didn't look pretty enough on my feed.

Ironically though, it's been about one year that I've been pondering the question of why am I so afraid of making mistakes. People say errors could help you grow, but how can I mature if blunders terrify me? Triple-checking everything helps the anxiety, but sometimes, it still doesn't feel enough.

That night, after I was done with all the work and my mind was begging for some rest, I was calmed by the realization that maybe what I had done was enough. I had given my best—sometimes more than I could even offer—and if that's not how it should turn out, so be it. I know I've said it too many times to be taken seriously, but I'm learning to accept the fact that even the smallest effort counts. Good outcomes usually line up with the sweat you've shed, but I want to be attentive to the state of my mental health too.

I'm not saying that I'm writing this as a testimonial. I still fail big time to worry less about making mistakes, but the pressure to present the most perfect outcome has begun to slowly ebb. Deadlines still scare me like my childhood fear of discovering a big bad monster under my bed, but I'm getting better at controlling the way I choose to deal with them, like the way little me decided to sleep facing anything but the back of the wall to anticipate the unreasonable dread. I still don't know how to overcome it precisely, but I'm trying.

To snatch my mind off the unnecessary things I couldn't control, I started to take more pictures of little things and do what I like even more. It feels super good to have many other things to be focused on rather than dwelling on your un-undoable mistakes. And so, as a human being trying to be logical, I've tried my best to learn and cope. Useful information could be found easily all around the internet and it took me less than three seconds to confirm that making mistakes could be important too. Even though you must learn it the hard way, fortunately, they could be the best teachers you could count on.