Not many people know this, but I constantly beat myself up whenever I don't perform to my potential. My laid back approach and confidence in everything I do doesn't stem from arrogance or ignorance, but from understanding the true extent of my capability.

Most of the time, I deliver, especially when its from the heart, which is why I enjoy piano and photography so much - they require such a level of originality, sentience and pedanticism only the spiritually aware posess; the pursuit of perfection is almost never ending, and while it looks so easy, the dedication you have to force yourself to give is unmatched.

But on the number of occasions I can still count with the fingers of just one hand, I'd allowed myself to slip somehow, and when it happens I get miserable, angry and just plain depressed - I hate myself more than anything else in the world and can never forgive myself. And it looks like Monday might very well be one of these very rare occasions, and my pride will not let me forgive myself anytime soon if I don't perform.

I don't know if you know what its like to be told constantly, all your life from the day you were born by parents and teachers, how talented or smart or clever or creative you are - no, I'm not doing the whole poor-tortured-soul thing, but like it or not it HAS shaped the way I perceive myself, for better or for worse, and the way in which I've challenged myself in so many things out of my area, just to test my ability. I've cruised through my entire schooling life putting in not even half the effort as others who'd achieve as well as me, accumulated countless trophies, medals, awards, certificates...and until last year I'd never seen any reason to try - the less I try the better I do, it seems.

And so I guess the fact that I've actually started to CARE about what I learn academically is what's turned me into the emotional wreck that I am tonight. I've been told over and over again how well I'm expected to perform in Monday's society and culture exam and in turn I've pressured myself in not just believing it, but wanting to hit that magic number too.

And so I dug up all my notes, spent days and nights gathering theories, statistics and articles, analysing them and finally I'd put them into an essay - and as a result my immune system's crashed; I'm sneezing, coughing, feverish and just plain shitty. But by yesterday I had a brilliant essay, and the lengths I'd gone to to deliver it to my teacher to get it marked were ridiculous, including getting from my place to school in 14 minutes (usually a good 25 minute drive) , driving at 140kmph in order to catch him before he left.

So why am I so bothered right now?

Because I don't have the fucking essay back.

I asked two, not one, but TWO people to help pick up the essay for me because I've been too sick to do anything remotely useful, and none of them did - one of them even agreed profusedly when I'd asked.

In other words, I have no essay to study and rework.

I won't know if what I've written is good enough.

I won't know what to study.

Even if I do study everything, I won't have the time in the exam to turn it into a brilliant essay.

I can't even write fast.

In other words, I won't hit the 90s in a subject I am the most ardent about scoring high in, and I will not only disappoint myself but my teacher and my mentor who both know how willing I've been to gun this.

Its not that I'm blaming anyone, I have no one but myself to blame and I'll get over it I guess...eventually...some time in the next decade....but for now, depending on if I'm able to somehow brilliantly score a hundred percent in this thing or if I freeze and forget everything I have to know...I just don't think I'd be able to live with myself. And the worst thing is being fully aware of the fact that I've put myself in this position, and knowing just too well that no amount of regrets and what if's will fix anything.

I am, quite literally, my own worst enemy.