Everything that I've done has always had to be perfect, everything. My hair, face, teeth, and I had to always shower. Everybody noticed that I had something going on. Something called perfectionism, which I hadn't known the name of since a month ago.
I also realized something else that day. Perfectionism wasn't all good. In fact, it was mostly horrible to deal with. I didn't know being perfect had it's downs.
But I was wrong.