I am tired, sleep deprived and I want to quit. I know I really don't want to, but I want to. I hate this shit. I don't know what will help. More time? I had that a few months ago. A miracle, may be? Where experiments will just work with the snap of a finger? But then I wouldn't be in this business. I have never felt this desperate. Willing to do whatever it takes, but it's still not enough. So I give some more on top of that. And still nothing. What I really want to do is not quit, but take this head-on. That's how I have always reacted to things. But it's amazing how crippling the fear of failure can be. How, when you attach so much importance to something, it paralyses you and renders you totally non-productive. There's something to be said about being detatched from one's work- I wish I had learnt that trick.
And the whirlpool of self-flogging is always there, to consume me when I start going down that route. So much as I try to avoid it, put up a bright front, and focus on what needs to be done, I hit road blocks that drag me into the dumps. At a time I simply cannot afford them.
So close, yet so far. How long is this shit going to go on?
It can't be that hard. What am I missing?