Jamaica Leech

1. Overachiever’s Syndrome

The euphoric sensation of success provokes varied reactions from the human body. 

The abuse of the substance, success, onsets overachiever’s syndrome, a common virus contracted by those unable to say no.

Once infected by the chronic disease, notable symptoms start to arise:  hypercriticism,

unrealistic expectations,

an obsessive fascination with perfectionism.

If left untreated, anxieties will arise and addiction will sprout. Mood irregularities will present themselves day to day, dependent on incremental levels of success. The smallest particle of failure results in a downward spiral of panic, ‘pain’, suffering. Breakdowns on the bathroom floor. Tears, tantrums, “Toughen up!” The taste of achievement. Winning acts as momentary methadone.

Overachievers are miners, excavating rubble and crevices, waiting for the eventual retrieval of a diamond. The art of exploring tantalises their senses and probes their curiosity.

As they devour the cave’s inner gastric pit, their anticipation builds until the discovery of a precious mineral. These moments of pure bliss fuel their desire to achieve. By continuing to chip, chip, chip away at those cave walls, overachievers abseil a fine line. They continue to unearth the internal cavity until either:

a) they discover a trove of treasures 

or 

b) have their spine shattered by rock masses 

It is inevitable that they will continue to scratch away at hopes of their alpha career, ignoring prospects of a dimmed flame. 

They are a candle with an infinite supply of wax, thriving off oxygen to continue their slow burn…. out.

As I comfortably reside on the border of breakthrough and breakdown, I am forced to wonder how people above ground live.

2. The laid backs. The chill outs. The Floaters. 

Listening to their whale song while drinking green tea. These people have not a care in the world. “Due tomorrow, do tomorrow” echoes through their hypothalamus, becoming the sacrament by which they live.

The charade they play consists of regular naps and an unlimited sense of freedom. Failure need not faze. Sick days encouraged! 

Epsom salts ruminate throughout their lungs, provoking a constant sense of relaxation. Not a stiff muscle detected. Their steady heart rate continues despite the appearance of procrastination. Gingerly popping in for a spot of tea and biscuits, procrastination is welcomed with open arms.  

“Can’t stay longer? Such a shame, we were just getting better acquainted.”

They need not worry, procrastination enjoys making regular visits to their neck of the woods. 

Relishing in moments of stillness, they meditate. Cross legged on their patchwork quilted rug, they rejoice in the sun’s kisses through their stained-glass window. As the sun clocks off for the day, it is praised. 

The optimism of chillouts reignites the sun’s purpose to come out tomorrow, mañana.

One final caress of sunlight on their cheeks.

They feel a sense of achievement, having accomplished nothing at all. This is a false truth. As I sit here, controversially contradicting Shakespeare, I proclaim, that something can come of nothing. 

In their slow-moving universe they have come eye to eye with success, appreciating the simplicities of life, being limitless, unbound by expectation, rather, the F word.

Freedom.

I admire their ability to dictate their own success by phasing out the concept of the ‘other’ F word. 

Failure.

With this being said, does ‘failure’ only exist if we create it?

3. The Unwinnable War

Warfare between these two personality types is a losing battle. 

Where overachievers meticulously plan every attack and line of defence in coordination with every soldier and weapon. Chillouts, on the other hand, catapult into battle like a faulty firework, exploding at random. 

Though this frivolous nature weakens the opposition, it acts as a double-edged sword, wilting their own line of defence, wasting weapons and resources. Of every hit they gain, an exorbitant amount of artillery is wasted. 

As weapons are disposed of, the unit of overachievers are yet to make a play. Exhausting each possible solution before moving a single chess piece. Cold and calculating tunnel-visioned troops. Weighing up the pros and cons of each tactic, they are paralysed by their own minds. Stagnant. 

There can be no neutrals in war, as there are no neutrals in life. Reading this and excusing yourself from both personality types is an act of treason. 

4. ‘The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.’ – Sun Tzu

To win the war, both must unite, fighting the great evil rather than each other. A blank truce. Accepting each other’s faults yet rejoicing in our differences allows us to build a bullet-proof cavalry.

That is The Art of War.

I am a diagnosed overachiever who relies on the calming strokes of chillouts. I need them in order to get up off the bathroom floor and feel the kiss of sun, rather than the strangle of stress. I feel okay about it, good even. It’s a feeling I recommend to all of you.

Use the strengths of each other to construct a line of defence that can recover from a spear of setbacks, filling in each other faults, to bring home a victory.