No matter what I do there is still a part of me that believes that if I keep running away, I will eventually inadvertently arrive at the destination which provokes all of my fleeing: failure. If I do not try, then I cannot really fail, now can I? If I put in the maximum effort only to receive a return of minimum success, then I have failed upon my own merits.
The fear of failing due to not being personally up to speed in anything is probably what keeps me the most inhibited and leaves me inclined to completely eschew all chance of success by failing by default instead of by unworthy effort.
The recognization of such is no great accomplishment; it is not a conclusion I have reached after years of introspection and self-punishment. No, this is something I have known almost from the start. Knowledge has not prevented it from happening ad nauseum. It is still far easier to admit that I may become a failure than it is to admit that I am trying and failing.
That being said, I am once again trying.
