Perfectionist?

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If you take the neurotypic tune "Because it is supposed to be" with some grains of salt, and if necessary know how to deposit linearly into the mind-map nonsense, you already have a good weapon against social-perfectionism in my opinion. Because of this attitude I can be treated like people that i not exist. But I really like it when people tread me like i not exist, at least when it are people i dont like to, this way I am made an outcast, a spiritual space where I feel at home. I don't like the perfectionism at military parade's. Here in the Catholic South you sometimes notice in villages that drum bands or a brass band march through the streets in a parade. Give me a bunch of unregulated walkers, their form of movement in relation to each other gives space for the individual, both literally and figuratively. Walking out of step is against the sore leg of the perfectionist herd, for me it is the other way around. To throw my autonomy to the credit and glory of group behavior is poison to me, solitary perfectionism.
For me, social chaos is a synonym for Solitary perfectionism
I often came to people's homes for work. The houses where it was a mess I felt at home.
"Chaos = Order" for me in a way, in those houses where it was a mess I didn't have the fear of making a mess, because it was already a mess. I can start hyperventilating the households where it is so sterile, so to speak, that surgeons can easily keep open heart operations. A 'mess' stuck to this form of perfectionism. Chaos may be my form of organization, but I must honestly admit that I have my kitchen drawer where the cutlery is located, the knives at the knives, the forks at the forks, and the spoons at the spoons. I could not tolerate domestic help, my order would actually cause chaos in my skull again. My mother has tried it in the distant past (with all good intentions). It seemed like a game of hide and seek when I came home later and I couldn't find anything anymore because my mother had put things in their place (in her place). A few times a year they do this at Lidl too, then the whole supermarket is turned upside down. As a result, I am looking like a headless chicken with my cart for the peanut butter while I have driven past it twice already. Nothing in my apartment has legs, and I mean legs to walk with, I am the only one who has legs in my house.

One time, a young married couple were hanging wallpaper in their new home. The man was quite fussy, measuring to minimize the breaks in the pattern at doors and corners and lining up the edges very precisely. His bride was faster, but sloppier, and they started getting on each other's nerves. Eventually, he saw the pattern to their bickering, and shouted "You know what the problem is? I'm a perfectionist, and you're not!"
"That's right!" she shot back "And that's why I married You, and You married Me!"

Thanks Dear_one

And that's why i am not married