The audit runs where nobody can hear it
Put a Virgo Sun in the house of the Unconscious and the assessing goes on inside, continuously, without an audience. Others see somebody calm and capable; you experience a running commentary on what could have been done better. You need somewhere to put that commentary where it can be answered.
Unspoken, it does not moderate itself. The standard you would never apply to another person gets applied to you all day, and nobody is present to point out that the case is not well founded.
The work nobody knows you did
A great deal of your effort goes into things with no visible outcome: the error caught before anyone saw it, the situation quietly prevented, the arrangement made so that somebody else had an easy week. That is genuine service. Keep a private record of it, because otherwise a decade of it leaves no trace even for you.
Worry as a background process
Anxiety here is low-grade, detailed and constant rather than dramatic: the thing not checked, the message that might have been misread. It runs underneath ordinary life and you have stopped noticing it as a separate phenomenon. Writing the specific items down converts it into a list, and a list can be dealt with in a way that a hum cannot.
You need somewhere to be unobserved
Solitude is not a preference here, it is the condition in which you stop performing competence and get to think. Without it the standard rises and the output falls. Build a regular period alone into the week as a fixture rather than as a reward, and treat losing it for a month as a genuine explanation for feeling worse.
Turn the standard outward
The same precision that punishes you is enormously useful applied to something outside yourself: a craft, a body of work, a person who needs careful help. Given a real object, the faculty becomes a gift rather than a weapon. Choose one thing this year that deserves your full standard, and give it that instead.
Tension that never announces itself
Constant low-level vigilance shows up in the body long before it shows up in your mood: shallow breathing, a tight stomach, sleep that is technically adequate and not restorative. The remedy is regularity plus something that occupies the hands. Repetitive physical work does more here than rest, which the mind simply fills.
Helpful, and hard to know
People experience you as reliable and reveal considerably more to you than you reveal to them. That asymmetry is comfortable and it leaves your friendships one-sided in a way only you can correct. Tell one person one true thing about how you actually are, unprompted and without being asked twice, and let the imbalance shift. It will feel like an imposition and it is the opposite of one.
The apology you rehearse alone
You review interactions afterwards and conclude you were at fault, often about things the other person has entirely forgotten. Check before repairing. Asking whether something landed badly is a two-second question, and it spares you a great many private trials in which you play prosecution, defence and the jury. The verdict of those trials is never favourable, which should tell you something about the process.
Work that happens behind the result
Research, editing, quality assurance, the preparation that makes somebody else look competent: this is where you do your best work and it is structurally uncredited. Take the role by all means and negotiate the recognition separately, in writing, at the point of agreement rather than at the point of publication. Afterwards there is nothing to negotiate with, because the work has already been absorbed into somebody else's result.
Easing the standard on one person
The long work here is extending to yourself the ordinary tolerance you extend to everybody else without effort. Argument does not achieve it; practice does. Once a week, name something you did adequately and then stop talking, leaving off the sentence about how it could have been better. Say it out loud to somebody so that the omission is witnessed rather than merely intended.