Insecurities

Recently, it seems I have been slowly sinking into an inert bubble within the rather effervescent muck pool known as the Lyndsey world. Not only is this perilous state of being extremely unproductive and brainless, but also comes across in a highly offensive manner to the human world. How do I explain it adequately, without coming across as sort of weird freak of nature?...

   I'm sorry dean, you're right. There is no other way I could go about this.

During the period I like to define as 'sludge mode', the daily activities humanity seems to perform rather effortlessly, become more like monumental sacrifices of my precious energy.
   Here is an excerpt from my internal dialogue this morning: "-Honestly though, why move when I can just sleep? Who needs food anyway... and school... It's not like my brain's improving from all this work anyway...I'll just lay here for a few more minutes...or maybe hours. I love sleep so much. I love sleep..."
   My situation is beginning to frighten me. It's as though my brain shuts off during these sludge mode periods and short circuits my rational decision capabilities. The excerpt from above isn't even the start of this consuming hole of disrepair! My social cords physically just shred themselves in front of me. Not only is my desire to engage in meaningful human interaction pretty much non-existent, but I find I'm hauling myself away deep into my subconsciousness, and actually dreading the imminent future possibility of having to interact with an actual life form. Remember when I mentioned earlier my rather offensive manner of handling the human world during this stage?... Well, it's actually the reverse. I just don't.
   This is pretty much me when thinking about all of the texts, emails, comments, phone calls, and social obligations I will inevitably have to fulfill in a reasonable amount of time:

This condition, is rather pathetic; and I will willingly admit this. Possibly it's the result of the teenage curse of hormones; possibly the side effects of being an introvert; or maybe it's just me. All I really know is that the people who brush my rather lengthy departures from the living world off without question, are honestly the most patient people on the planet.
   To get to the point, I have been trying to dissect the specific reason for my hermit style vacations. Is it a reaction to emotional, or physical strain? Do I just shut down when trying to deal with a certain problem? Is this just my body's way of reacting to unfamiliar difficulties?
   I'm not sure if this is just coincidence, but during these phases I seem to undergo both a great personal development and brutal self criticism cycle. Recently, my current object of self worth destruction has just been a constant dejected cry of, "I'm just not smart enough for college! How am I going to make it, I can't even figure out how to consistently find the sigma notation with square roots and fractions, without begging my brother to explain it at length to me."- and don't even get me started on chemistry!
   It's really hard to accept the fact that no matter how hard I try, my best is never going to be as good as someone's piece of cake, (metaphorically speaking of course).
   I guess what this all winds down to, is are these sludge modes really just my subconscious trying to come to terms with the question, "is it really worth it? Is it really worth trying your hardest when in the end you get the same results you'd have gotten without trying?"
   It just crushes me. It really does. I'm not like everyone else who seems to be good at fifty things, and doesn't have any problems with life at all. I'm not talented in the same ways, and in essence, I'm not even talented in as many ways. Though everyone tries to break out of that, 'plain old Jane mold', I fear that because of my limited capacity to handle the harder things in life, that it will leave me staring up towards a great mansion of achievements I will never attain. I'm not Brandon Sanderson, as much as that thought pierces my heart to the very core. I have a lot of room to grow in my writing, education, skills, talents, and the million other things everyone seems to have dangling off one hand.
   After all of this, I suppose that I fear my own imperfection. Not being worth it. Of trying, and then failing. As I think about it, my own doubts have taken root as my enemy within my very mind.
   Undoubtedly, this phase will pass just as they always do. I will come to grips my fears, and it will vanish until being called upon again. It's interesting to realize that everyone handles doubts differently, and though my way of handling things might not be the most desirable way, it seems to eventually come to a conclusion. The most important part really, is holding on to what you know about yourself, and not letting the trials you undergo become who you are. Everyone is allowed to have doubts, it is only when those doubts become your identity that you know you have to start a battle with yourself. You need to fight for the person you know is hiding beneath your insecurities. The person you want to become.