Control.

I am a control freak. I won't even say I'm idiosyncratic because really, everyone has their own way of doing things...but I think sometimes I can go a little overboard with positioning random trinkets, the way the mop should lean in the closet or where the chair should be in order to perfectly stage my wonderland. I've decided the control is a comfort of discernible value that makes the people in my life play tug-of-war with my obsessive nature. I get most, if not all, of my neurosis from my progenitors. I'm still in the process of self-therapy where I drown out the drumming of opinions to find my center and my own voice - it's often misinterpreted by the masses. I am my own worst enemy and hold myself to standards of impossible grandeur and suffer the failure of these travesties almost masochistically. I'm probably too self-involved due to lack of inspiration. I'm continually looking for something which I'm mistaking for my deeper self when really it's just pulling at my own loose thread. I think too much.