Perfectly Psychotic?

Overachievers drive me crazy although some people might say I’m an overachiever. I’m just an overachiever who makes mistakes, says incredibly stupid things and has to be moderately medicated at times. Ashley Judd is one of those perfect overachievers that drive me crazy – she’s a beautiful, educated actress who is married, saves kids with AIDS and enjoys yoga, cooking and gardening. I swear her only imperfection is her asymmetrical eyebrows and they still somehow look good on her! Now Ashley is telling the world via Glamour magazine that she’s not perfect; she had emotional problems and had to seek inpatient psychiatric help. For a split second I almost empathized. Then I read this:

She entered the Shades of Hope Treatment Center in Buffalo Gap for 47 days for "codependence in relationships; depression, blaming, raging, numbing, denying and minimizing my feelings." She says, "But because my addictions were behavioral, not chemical, I wouldn't have known to seek treatment. At Shades of Hope, my behaviors were treated like addictions. And those behaviors were killing me spiritually, the same as someone who is sitting on a corner with a bottle in a brown paper bag. When (the counselors) approached me about treatment, they said, 'No one ever does an intervention on people like you. You look too good; you're too smart and together. But you (and Wynonna) come from the same family -- so you come from the same wound.' No one had ever validated my pain before. It was so profound. 'Perfectionism is the highest order of self-abuse,’ so now I try to remind myself that if I engage in perfectionism, I am abusing myself. Period."

Cry me a river: Even her psychiatric problems are perfect. She’s locked up, whining about her perfectionism while her fat ass sister is being treated for food addition. Ashley even steals the thunder from her sister’s psychiatric treatment. What a waste of perfectly good psychiatric care. They could’ve been treating Angelina Jolie for self-mutilation (she’s a cutter), Paris Hilton and her deranged “cousin” Perez for megalomania with delusions of grandeur or Nicole Richie and her anorexic friends. I wish I self-abused with perfectionism and had a job that let me spend 47 days sitting around in Shades of Hope Treatment Center painting pretty pictures of flowers and sunshine while I “work on my feelings.” [source]