I have deep seeded psychological issues.


The history of my life is more like a pamphlet on how not to do stuff. I have never achieved greatness in anything I have done; the closest to greatness I have come is in my soccer career, but I never received proper coaching, and despite being described by many as a prodigy of the sport, I never blossomed into what I could have become, and quit the sport when I could have finally had a chance to reach my potential.

Maybe that is my problem. I lack the abilities to reach the next stage of development in the human psyche. Does it require abilities? Does growing up require skill? I have no skills. None that I know of. All my life I have never really DONE anything. I have never developed hobbies for longer than a month. I cannot decide what I want to do with my life.

I guess I could place some blame on growing up with ADHD in the age when prescribing Ritalin to kids was considered trendy. I guess it was third grade when I was formally diagnosed. Medication never helped much. I was on a new pill every 6 months or so because the medication stopped being effective and I needed something stronger. This is probably what led to my current state of mind. Right when I got onto a pill it was great! I could concentrate! I could grow!

But then WHAM! It stopped working. Things went back to the way they were, and I couldn't focus on anything again until the new pills kicked in. This was the way things were for me. I couldn't do anything about it. Everything was out of my control. I was even living in my older sister's shadow. Little Ms. Perfect. That was discouraging, because I couldn't keep up with her no matter how hard I tried. (Hell, she could read books by herself almost as soon as she could talk. How am I supposed to keep up with that??)

It was in middle school that I started noticing that I could avoid minor projects, a homework here and there, warm-ups, etc. and still get good grades. I could abuse the system and the system would accept it because I was smart. With my fluxuations in medicated efficiency, the abuse was fully justified. "Why didn't you do your homework?" my mother would ask. "Well I sat down to try it, but I ended up doing something else. My medicine must be wearing off again," I would reply, fully confident that that was what happened anyway.

This self-destructive trend of mine continued into High School, where it deepened into more of a psychological issue. By senior year, I was only doing enough to get into the college of my choice. Barely. I got into college with no scholarships, in a major that had the lowest minimum GPA requirement, and lost whatever little motivation to do things I had left.

So now I sit here. Back in my dorm from Spring Break. Back early because I have two midterms due once classes start up again. Back early to do work.

But I can't.

I have no motivation to lift a finger in such a way that would lead to productivity. One of my midterms is to do an outline. I have the organizational skills of a goldfish. The outline cannot be completed. The other midterm is a film analysis. Oh goodie! I get to watch a movie for a midterm! Well. I don't see it as such. I see it as work, and therefore it will not be completed. The movie is Red River, a John Wayne classic directed by the great Howard Hawks. I enjoyed the film so much when I watched it in class that I bought it the very next day. Despite this, I cannot bring myself to watch the film. I have no motivation to do so.

So I lack motivation. I have a crippling inability to become motivated. And I believe this problem to be psychological in nature. Medicine helps me concentrate, but does not help me get motivated.

I just needed to get it out. Now I have to do something about it. But, even for that... I'm not motivated enough to do anything.