Anxiety Is Sometimes Fueled by Self-Importance

T.S. Elliot wrote, "Half of the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important." And, arguably, half of the harm done to us is by us not only because of our innate need for meaning but also due to our exaggerated drive for significance.

Considering life as a perpetual climb upward, like the great Jay Gatsby, perfectionists tend to believe that life gets easier with more success. To them, success equates with influence, status, and a sense of competence. Fundamentally, hard work now means smooth sailing later. Yet, they fail to contextualize their progress. Better doesn't always mean good and better doesn't necessarily mean secure, emotionally or financially.

Many high achievers become disillusioned at some point. For world-famous chef Charlie Trotter, it occurred when he opened his own restaurant. In The Rise and Fall of Charlie Trotter, his ex-wife noted that his perfectionistic tendencies were sent into overdrive, his insecurity about his ability likely flamed by his critics and competitors. In a letter to her, he noted that "the air is thinner up here" and that there wasn't any room for mistakes. His life became increasingly more difficult as the quality of his competition improved and, eventually, he died after a series of strokes. So, I often ask my perfectionist patients what they prefer: security or importance. Erroneously, they tend to conflate the two.

Perfectionists and Pain

Often, people misunderstand the meaning of the psychoanalytic concept of masochism. They believe it's just the love of pain, but it isn't. Pain, at a point, becomes submerged by the dopamine tide of expectation (along with endorphins, which are the brain's natural painkillers). Pain isn't loved for its own sake; pain, like the bell and food to Pavlov's salivating dog, becomes associated with pleasure, rather the anticipation of it. So, to the perfectionist, pain is connected with both significance and safety. And the apparently relentless struggle is fueled by a delusion.

I noted elsewhere that anxiety, for the perfectionist, is a compulsion, sought after to manage an underlying anxiety about being insignificant. When one problem can't be solved and the individual feels useless and inferior, he searches for more significant ones (taking on more responsibility), sometimes even the root causes of the initial ones, which was noted by a patient of mine. (For example, if I can't resolve my father's depression, I may attempt to address dysfunctional family dynamics.) Thus, importance and security, along with a sense of competence and status, are usually negatively correlated—the more of one, the less of the other (although, obviously, overconfident people exist and some who are more or less secure with themselves regardless of their positions). And, this leaves us at a crossroads.

Greatness Versus Security

The existential psychotherapist Irvin Yalom poignantly remarked that alternatives exclude. Fundamentally, we have to choose either the pursuit of greatness (that terrestrial but figurative immortality that was important to the ancient Greeks) or security. Humans, as insatiable as we are, tend to want both. Just as often, we believe that, at some level, there's a point of convergence, wherein the two poles meet and harmonize, as long as we persist. Yet, life painfully reminds us that everything entails a sacrifice. And, as therapists, we can't guide our patients to specific places but we can help them acknowledge what to expect. It isn't that greatness is good or bad; it's that people expect too much of it and want to believe they can have it all. If they don't attain it, too many pine for a life that likely doesn't exist.

Understanding how self-importance contributes to our anxiety and remains correlated with it gives us the opportunity to make informed choices. When we contextualize our importance, realizing that we may be in a smaller room but one with less air due to the clutter, we may ask; How much more of this do I really want? And, as significantly, how much more of this can my mind and body handle?