I do *not* know why I do this, but it’s a pattern– I make a great plan for success, work through it painstakingly, and then make sure it falls apart at the last minute. Lately, at least, I’ve been able to put it all back together quickly enough that there’s no lasting damage. Tonight is one of those nights.
I have worked incredibly hard to finish my graduate studies, and now that only a ten-page essay stands between me and it, the essay has become colossal. I *know* it’s just an essay. I know it isn’t even a particularly difficult essay. However, I managed to overwhelm myself to the point that I rendered myself relatively useless.
It’s predictable. I start strong, working meticulously and planning detail by detail my work for whatever the goal may be. Somewhere along the way, I get frustrated. And overwhelmed. Overwhelm is a favourite of mine, she mutters darkly. Things start to unravel then. A bit after that, though, I get a second wind or something and rush back in to things with that same focus I had at first. Then it falls apart. Spectacularly.
So tonight, instead of writing an essay, I’m writing a blog post. I *will* write the essay. I just hate having to fight this hard to get stuff done. Programming probably has something to do with it, as does general depression. Maybe even a touch of mania/mixed episode stuff. Procrastination definitely plays a part. And this nagging *thing* I can’t figure out. It’s a feeling like defeat, like I’ve already failed before I started, so why start.
One sodding essay. Ten pages. Two plays. Four sources. That’s all.
So *what* is my problem?!?