The perils of procrastination
It’s one of humanity’s most self-damaging habits. And like many of our self-damaging habits, it rewards us in the moment, but brings significant hardship to our future selves.
Procrastination.
That is, of course, putting off a task or goal for another time, despite the fact that you’re perfectly equipped to handle it in the present moment. We chronic procrastinators delay everything from household tasks, to work projects, to car maintenance, to making huge life decisions. Often, the behavior is only broken once the consequences become very real and apparent.
Cars break down, the dishes in the sink start to attract flies, bosses and clients wonder where the work is, years slide by.
To the non-procrastinators out there — those who actually accomplish long- and short-term goals in a reasonable and timely manner — I’m in awe. I don’t know how you manage to so easily stay on top of things and stack up accomplishments instead of many wasted hours.
Procrastinators like me even procrastinate doing something about our problematic procrastination!
Tomorrow, we think, we’ll be in a better frame of mind to handle it.
Except “tomorrow” often looks a lot like “today” but with an added layer of panic brought on by a deadline that’s one day closer.
Procrastinators have this “I’ll do it tomorrow” behavior in common, but I bet our stories of how we became procrastinators and why we do it, still, take different forms. Here’s mine.
It started when I was in middle school, maybe sixth grade. I was plagued with an overwhelming desire to be “popular.” Anxious, studious and perfectionistic by nature, I’d figured out that being smart and organized were not the keys to popularity. So I started letting homework slide, scribbling my answers to homework questions five minutes before class started.
I felt “cool” being the sort of person who couldn’t be bothered with homework. I was no longer the type to get anxious about “stupid stuff” like grades and college. Little did I know the procrastination habits I was developing would become one of the most anxiety-producing behaviors in my life.
Soon, I became hooked on the immediate relief I felt when I delayed a task. By the time my arch nemesis, algebra, came into my life, I’d grown into a full-blown procrastinator. And so I started to fail algebra. Nothing could force me to sit down and work on my math homework … not even those twinges of genuine pleasure I felt when I correctly solved an equation.
I should have hung onto that feeling.
Still, procrastination and I remained buddies all through high school, then college, then grad school. On the rare occasions I completed a paper or a task ahead of time, I felt vaguely uneasy, like I was trying to be someone I wasn’t.
Good news, though. At 30, I feel like I’m almost getting a handle on my procrastination.
I had to first realize that procrastination, for me, was more about a lack of confidence and an abundance of fear. Maybe it had been that all along. Maybe I’d used the “I just want to be cool” excuse in my youth in order to downplay the fact that I was terrified I wasn’t actually smart.
Gina Jones’ excellent column in last week’s Herald-Standard touched on this conundrum and how fear and doubt can paralyze if we let them.
This is where action comes in. Understanding the root of my procrastination was not enough. I had to make concrete moves toward ending it. I could psychoanalyze myself for hours, endlessly write out my feelings and problems in journals, be gentle with myself, take deep breaths and stare dreamily out of windows.
But to kick procrastination, I had to actually start doing things. I had to plow through the discomfort of starting a new project or making appointments. I had to deal with the fears that my client would hate the work I did for them or that my car might need $500 in repairs.
This week, I completed three projects and got great client feedback. I took my car in for inspection, and it was given a clean bill of health. My mechanic even congratulated me for not waiting until after my inspection stickers had expired!
They’re small steps, but they build confidence that failures aren’t inevitable, and when they come, and they will, they won’t be as horrendous as I imagine.
And Future Me is grateful to the new and improved Present-Moment me who finally, for once, considers her feelings.
Jessica Vozel is originally from Perryopolis and, after attending graduate school and teaching in Ohio, now works as a freelance journalist and copywriter in the Pittsburgh area.