Perfectionism Blows.

I'm such a perfectionist.

I always have been. I'm so particular and I set impossibly high standards for myself to achieve. The worst part is that when I realize I can't achieve them, I just give up.

Why?

Because I'd rather not do it at all than not be able to do it perfectly.

Messed up? Yeah, I think so, too.

That was, perhaps, one of my biggest fears in all of this. If I couldn't do it to what I perceived to be perfection, would I just give up like always? Or would I be able to keep going?

Tonight, I had half a pint of Haagen Dazs sorbet. Not much, not the entire thing, and I knew I would. The best part of putting those spoonfuls of luscious raspberry deliciousness into my mouth?

I wasn't one bit guilty about it.

Because it didn't cause the world to crumble around me. Because I'm still on a good path. Because life goes on whether you ate the stupid Haagen Dazs or not.

Life goes on.

And just because I had half a pint of raspberry sorbet tonight doesn't mean I have to get up tomorrow morning and start living life the way I did seven days ago, bingeing constantly. Because tomorrow morning I'm still going to get up, have oatmeal with blueberries, drink my water, and take my vitamins.

And life will still be my choice.