I Was a Villain

Photo by Scott Evans

TW: Suicide

The definition of perfection was always distorted to me. I felt like I had to be perfect at every role I held.

The perfect girlfriend. 

The perfect sister.

The perfect daughter. 

The perfect friend.

The perfect student. 

The perfect co-worker.

My time and availability did not matter when it came to being perfect. If someone needed me, I would drop everything to help. Let’s say I was doing homework, and someone needed me, I would run to save them from heartbreaks, regrets, or even work troubles. I had no boundaries set in place; I would answer every “help” call without thinking of myself. 

Part of me felt like I was a superhero being able to help everyone. 

But I wasn’t the superhero. I was actually the villain in my own story. I was so focused on helping others that I just became weaker and weaker after each excursion. Helping others was draining my energy to the point that I couldn’t take care of myself.

I never wanted to get out of bed, I dreaded going to school, and I would snap at whoever bothered me at work, even if they were a close friend. I would refuse to go on dates with my boyfriend, which made me feel like an awful girlfriend. Pushing him away was the only thing I could do, because I wasn’t able to meet the basic requirements of being in a relationship.

He would beg, asking me to talk to him. “What is wrong? What can I do? How can I help?” 

“You wouldn’t understand,” I would reply, covering my face and starting to cry again. “Just leave me alone.”

I would refuse to answer messages, calls, or go on outings with friends because the simple idea of getting out of bed tired me out. When friends would ask if I wanted to go out drinking with them, the idea of getting dressed up made me cry. A friend of mine would text me asking if I was going out, and when I said no, I was met with judgement. 

“You used to go out all the time. What happened to you?” 

“Are you seriously not going to support your friend?” 

“You used to be so fun.”

This villain had slowly turned on a self-destruction mode. 

All I wanted to do was lay underneath my blankets and cry until I passed out. I would find myself crying in the shower, in the school’s bathroom, and even in the walk-in fridge at work. Very soon after, the dark black clouds that afflicted my relationships began to take over my life. Questions began to fill my mind: what would the world be like if I hung my cape? Is it worth living? Why am I still here? Do I deserve to live?

“Learning how to embrace failure was difficult, but I soon found myself unwinding my need to be perfect.”

The answer that always popped up was that I was a failure that did not deserve to live. I had failed my people and myself. In my mind, failures did not deserve to live. 

Then my boyfriend found me crying in the closet, contemplating death.

He quickly ran up to me and grabbed me tightly. I couldn’t move or escape. He held me for what felt like hours, and I felt his tears sting my skin. That is when it hit me: I was not only the villain in my own story but in other stories too. 

Not only was I causing pain to myself, but I was hurting those close to me. People wanted to help me, but I pushed them away. I would throw insults like darts and whoever got hit, would get stabbed by my words and actions.

The next morning, I made several calls to find a therapist. In that first session, I was nervous and my palms were sweaty, but tears the size of dimes fell out non-stop. I hadn’t realized how bottled up my emotions were, and that I was on a dark path to destroying myself. Week after week I found myself in the therapist’s office learning how to de-construct my ideas on perfection and failure. 

I learned that I didn’t have to be the perfect girlfriend. 

I learned that I didn’t have to be the perfect sister.

I learned that I didn’t have to be the perfect daughter. 

I learned that I didn’t have to be a perfect friend.

I learned that I didn’t have to be the perfect student. 

I learned that I didn’t have to be the perfect co-worker.

Learning how to embrace failure was difficult, but I soon found myself unwinding my need to be perfect. As each week passed, rays of sunshine would find their ways through my dark clouds. I continued to learn about myself, the damage of seeking perfection was doing on me, and why nothing about me needs to be perfect. 

The most important thing I learned was that I don’t need to be a superhero, and I am not the villain. I am just Kim.