One of my favorite authors, Anne Wilson Schaef, once wrote, "Perfectionism is self-abuse of the highest order." How powerful is that statement? Children who experience emotional neglect (well, okay, I'm talking specifically about me here) think that if we can just be perfect in all the things that we do, our parents will love and adore us.
We (okay, I) strive for perfection throughout childhood and into adulthood. Some of us (me again) keep beating ourselves up with perfectionism, but others of us (pick me for this one) get to a point where we just say, "Screw it, I'm never going to be perfect enough for them.
I might as well blow up my life." Please note, what precedes is my made-up psychological model; my PhD is in health care policy, so I'm not really qualified to develop social and psychological theories. The point is, I have been a person who abused myself through perfectionism.
I took a break from it to become addicted to drugs for a decade but picked it up again as part of my workaholism. I try hard not to hurt myself with perfectionism anymore.
Perfectionism hurts ourselves the most; no amount of perfect is worth the pain.