If you don't know me personally (and the confessional nature of this blog makes me hope you don't), I was successful throughout school. I came first a lot, I have many lamenated certificates. Somewhere along the lines, this type of praise and my self-worth became entwined. Only now that I'm at university and 'struggling' (read: not coming first) is it apparent that there might be more to me. I've lied, stolen, cheated, but somehow these moral lapses don't register against not studying for university. A complete lack of motivation seems to be the more abhorrent personal failure.

It's something that's occupied a considerable portion of my attention. The suggestion that it's a sign I'm in the wrong field is proved wrong by the fact that I genuinely love psychology. There's this version of myself, closer to the asymptotic perfection, who in fleeting moments of motivation is actually productive. Who sees what she wants and acts so to get it. The problem is in accessing that part of myself, rather than the conditions around me.

Perhaps I'm reading too far into it. It most certainly would not be the first time; over-analysis seems to be a personal trait. There might not be any problem at all and I'm grasping in the dark at nothing. Unfortunately, as you'll probably gather as I post, accepting that
'there's nothing wrong with me' is much more difficult than it should be.