Feeling worse than useless and being told as much most of my growing up years it was easy not to try.  When I did try, even though I might have started out with excitement, I learned early on to devalue that which I loved and was relieved when it sunk like a heavy rock into the general category of useless/worthlessness.  So familiar was this sinking place that, whatever for that moment became the object of my desire, lay shrouded in an ephemeral aura of disdain.  Ironically, to match up this split psyche with my experience I find it useful to project the possibility of love onto anything and everything that remains just out of my reach.