The Playback

When you are a perfectionist a moment is never actually over.  Once the time has come and gone the playback begins.  All conversations are recalled over and over and over.  You think back to what you said and worry about every possible mistake.  You think about the words said back to you; inflection, nuance, and what wasn't said are analyzed on repeat.  Texts, emails, laughing too loud, too much, too little, your every move plays back on the movie screen in your head as you watch in horror at all your perceived flaws and mistakes.  

You would think this extreme level of self-critique would paralyze me but it usually doesn't.  I will still jump on stage with glee and look for the attention I adore. I laugh, have fun and will be the life of the party.  I walk the earth with an "I do what I want" attitude.  It's not until I'm alone and still that it all replays and I curl up in a ball cringing.  

Even a positive interaction can begin the playback cycle.  There is this need to relive it and see what you did right.  But after the joy of the moment the playback turns negative.  You start looking for flaws, mistakes and may even perceive what was good as now bad.

This is all a PTSD response for control and survival.  I've thought back many times to when this began for me and I think it was something that progressed over time.  I have a deep neural pathway that tells me I need to play it all back in order to be safe and live.  I meditate, do yoga, breath work, essential oils and any other trick I can think of but it doesn't stop the thoughts from coming.  Distraction helps but when I'm alone and still the reply in my head becomes deafening.

In the midst of a playback moment last week I made an interesting observation.  Without going into details there was a person who left my life after a bizarre incident.  The entire moment left me dumbfounded so as part of the playback I shared the story with friends looking for input. I found that the women tended to ask what I had done, didn't do or said.  I heard, "Well clearly you did something!" repeatedly.  The men either laughed or said I'd done nothing wrong and don't even think about it anymore.  Though I was thankful this person was out of my life the playback continues.  I try to make the illogical logical. 

It's exhausting beyond words to function with your mind on hyperdrive.  It's immensely painful to wake up at 3am with a headache because the thoughts turn to dreams that terrify you.  I feel shame when I'm told I need to stop knowing damn well I can't.