There's a propensity to over-diagnose the conditions described in the previous chapter – something nearly all the experts admit. Indeed, many unproductive people are keen to be diagnosed, perhaps preferring a comforting label to explain their discomforting deficiencies. Yet, in my opinion, there's one condition at the heart of many (but not all) of those diagnosed with conditions such as ADD: low self-esteem.

It's low self-esteem that destroys our motivation, with even small setbacks viewed as confirmation of our negative self-beliefs – little wonder we'd rather hide behind some diagnosable condition.

According to John Caunt, author of Boost Your Self-Esteem (2002), it's the self-beliefs we develop in childhood that generate high or low self-esteem. These are reinforced by those around us: from their feedback as well as their love and acceptance, or indeed their enmity or intolerance. If negative, our inner self-beliefs prevent us from developing the high self-esteem that's a key ingredient for generating strong achievement-focused habits, including deferred gratification.

Our default setting is that we're worthless: a reference point that can reassert itself no matter how far down the line we've travelled. Indeed – given such destructive self-beliefs – we can end up scouring the horizon for confirmation of our poor self-assessment, no matter what our external attainments.

According to Caunt, low self-esteem can present itself in many ways, including:

• doing things solely to win the approval of others,
• constantly comparing ourselves to others and resenting those that succeed,
• feeling like a failure and always focusing on the negative,
• being overly-sensitive to criticism – indeed, allowing even constructive criticism to derail us,
• giving in to others' desires,
• avoiding actions for fear of failure and public humiliation,
• striving for unrealistic levels of perfection,
• worrying excessively – but not asking for help,
• putting ourselves down, even in public,
• feeling out of control,
• withdrawing from people or social events,
• becoming aggressive or overly passive,
• punishing ourselves – or only allowing ourselves to ‘earn’ feelings of well-being.

The toxic internal critic

And while much of the above may not look that devastating for our productivity, it is.

‘When you reject parts of yourself, you greatly damage the psychological structures that literally keep you alive’, write San Francisco-based psychologists Matthew McKay and Patrick Fanning in Self-Esteem (2000). ‘The pathological critic [inside you] is busy undermining your self-worth every day of your life. Yet his voice is so insidious, so woven into the fabric of your thought that you never notice its devastating effect.’

According to McKay and Fanning, this toxic internal critic destroys objectivity, undermines positivity and kills motivation stone dead. It's also self-fulfilling: creating the circumstances that confirm its own predictions of failure and defeat. Sure, we may try to excuse our behaviour – even diagnose it differently in order to avoid the painful realization that it's our own self-beliefs that are causing the problems. We can even try to mask it via self-destructive behaviour such as anger, withdrawal, bravado or rebelliousness – or numb the pain through licentiousness, addictions or gluttony. But, ultimately, there's no escape: we're the ones driving our own behaviour thanks to our own – disastrous – self-beliefs.

Even today, as someone with low self-esteem, I find writing on this subject painful. Here I am, in my late 40s, having to accept that I'm responsible for my own dysfunctionality – brought about due to poor self-beliefs that reach right back to my early childhood. And, no matter how much I try to shift the blame, as an adult I must accept full responsibility for the impact this has had on my progress.

I've sabotaged myself: from poor planning, poor goal-setting and poor execution – based on my inner beliefs that I was neither capable, nor deserving, of such progress.

Maslow had it right. I've been so busy seeking the love and approval I lacked in my childhood, I've been incapable of motivating myself towards the self-actualization of productive pursuits. Instead, I lost myself in a fantasy country where I could be the prime minister, the national football coach and the editor of the leading newspaper rolled into one. And while I could have acquired any number of labels to explain my incompetence, I didn't even have the wherewithal to get myself diagnosed – something I now consider in my favour. Lacking the convenience of a ‘condition’, I've finally – in middle life – developed a blinding clarity regarding how I got myself into this position.

Just maybe those disorders are unhelpful to our cause: as is any indication of personality type. Such avenues can result in self-fulfilling adult dysfunctionality, with us hiding behind statements such as ‘that's just the way I am’ or ‘I can't help myself’ that strip away our autonomy with respect to our own productivity.

Only once we've grasped our own role in our dysfunctionality can we develop productive and organizational competence. And this means that our best bet may be to do the opposite to what we've previously done. Instead, of attaching ourselves to some condition by searching our memories for incidents that comply with their symptoms, we should focus on the points where we differ. What characteristics do we not share? It's these points we should look for and linger upon.

For instance, I enjoy rather than fear novelty, which would make ADD rather than Asperger's my condition – reinforced by the fact I've no problem with empathy. Cartoons and even dog-food adverts can have me fighting back the tears, meaning that – if I can gain empathy with fictional animals and even computer-generated pixels – Asperger's is certainly not my concern.

And then there's the fact I can show almost autistic levels of concentration on seemingly irrelevant subjects (such as made-up countries), which is beyond the usual experience of those with ADD, making me an unlikely candidate there too. As for simple schizophrenia – well I certainly don't think I was ever ‘normal’. I've always felt incapable of strong, productive, organizational competence. OCD, CFS, SAD? Perhaps, but most likely not.

Just maybe I'm Robert Kelsey: a complex human-being looking for a label to explain away my poor productivity and organizational dysfunctionality when, in reality, it's no more than my negative self-beliefs, caused by low self-esteem.

Self-belief: the missing ingredient

For me, and I suspect for many who examine themselves honestly, there's always been something missing. And that something, I'm now convinced, is self-belief. We inwardly think we're incapable of strong, self-motivated achievement, so we prove ourselves right – looking (and therefore finding) the evidence that supports this predisposition. Painful as this is to confess, we have to accept that we're our own worst enemy when it comes to organizing ourselves for effective progress.

Yet this isn't the disaster it seems. If we're responsible for getting ourselves into this mess, we're responsible for getting ourselves out of it. It's in our hands. Also, if low self-esteem is the crucial differentiator, then we have a major benchmark for our success as a goal-oriented and productive person. Low self-esteem has resulted in organizational dysfunctionality, so becoming organizationally competent – and therefore more productive – should surely undermine our poor self-beliefs, which is immediately a worthwhile and motivating pursuit. This is about shaking off the most crippling characteristic of our personality: our negative, disabling and self-fulfilling self-beliefs.

And this should have a major impact when dealing with two of the primary symptoms of our malaise: procrastination and clutter.

The Procrastinator's Code

The dictionary definition of procrastination is simply ‘to defer’, ‘to delay’ or ‘to put off until tomorrow’ – a tendency of one in four adults, according to University of California psychologists Jane B. Burka and Lonora M. Yuen in their classic text Procrastination (1983).

Burka and Yuen are at pains to point out that procrastination doesn't usually stem from laziness, irresponsibility or lack of discipline. In fact, the roots are rather familiar.

‘The emotional roots of procrastination involve inner feelings, fears, hopes, memories, dreams, doubts and pressures’, they write.

Life's challenges scare procrastinators, claim Burka and Yuen – a fear that most often comes from their inner feelings of low self-esteem. Such feelings produce results such as fear and catastrophic thinking, which may be rooted in a poor or stressful upbringing, or even traumas in young adulthood, they claim, although they don't dismiss the idea of genetic inheritance. Whatever the cause, the outcome is a series of mistaken all-or-nothing ideas, including:

• I must be perfect,
• everything I do should go easily,
• it's safer to do nothing, than risk failure,
• I should have no limitations,
• if it's not done right, it's not worth doing,
• I must avoid being challenged,
• if I succeed, someone will get hurt,
• if I do well this time, I must always do well,
• following others’ rules means I'm giving in,
• I can't afford to let go of anyone or anything,
• if I show my real self, I'll be disliked,
• there's a right answer, which I'm waiting to find.

This is what Burka and Yuen call the Procrastinator's Code: fear-generated thinking that produces a desire to consciously or unconsciously delay life's challenges.

‘Many people who procrastinate are apprehensive about being judged by others or by the critic who dwells within,’ they write.

Of course, there's also an internal cost. Procrastinators can suffer from feelings that range from irritation and regret to intense self-condemnation and despair. Yet many also generate self-confirming excuses to hide the consequences of their behaviour – such as the idea that, although capable, they simply don't have the time to execute future-oriented projects.

For most, however, procrastination hides deep convictions of unworthiness that can manifest themselves as not wanting to ‘showcase ambition’ or a fear of the commitments required from achievement, or simply feelings that ‘I don't deserve success’. And some procrastinators are – despite appearances – seeking control, which means digging in their heels against what they see as outside pressures – perhaps through unconscious (although deliberate) tardiness or stubbornness.

Burka and Yuen focus on conditioning as both a cause and potential relief for procrastination, stating that – while negative or painful childhood experiences may have generated the inability to focus on and execute future-oriented actions – the brain is an ‘ever-changing biological entity’. It constantly builds new neural connections and disengages old ones, making it capable of developing new patterns and habits that can remove our propensity for tardiness or inaction (more on habits in Part Two). While procrastination may be our default response – hardwired into us for whatever reason – new habits can emerge from new conditioning.

‘You have a choice,’ conclude Burka and Yuen. ‘You can delay or you can act.’

Clutter – the not so benign symptom

As for clutter, what can sound like a minor irritation, can – according to clutter-guru Mike Nelson, author of Stop Clutter From Stealing Your Life (2001) – be a symptom of a major psychological disorder. A disorder, what's more, that can destroy self-esteem, relationships and careers, as well as lead to financial problems.

Of course, the word clutter generates images of dusty attics and cobwebbed sheds – or maybe a kindly uncle's book-laden study. Yet it can be far more disabling. Clutter can clog whole aspects of our lives and lead to potentially disastrous consequences: our financial affairs – including our taxes – could be in disarray due to our inability to cut through the mountain of paper, as can utility payments, work projects and career advancements. Even the pleasurable aspects of our lives – such as friendships and holidays – can find themselves utterly cluttered (see Part Three). For instance, we could make too many conflicting arrangements, or we could maintain destructive or unenjoyable pursuits for fear of change.

‘For most people a desk littered with papers or a closet or garage stuffed with forgotten items is a mild annoyance’, writes Nelson. ‘For clutterers, it is an outward manifestation of our inner lives. Inside, we're afraid of losing love [a notion Maslow would find familiar], so we hang onto every object that comes into our lives.’

Far from seeking release, says Nelson, most clutterers find self-esteem-supporting excuses for indulging their clutter. These can include:

• I am an artist and artists are messy.
• I am a genius. We are allowed.
• I am [insert nationality]. It's part of our culture.

Unfortunately, Nelson states, the true reasons for cluttering are more to do with deep feelings of insecurity. Because we feel we deserve no better, we cling to the things we have – including relationships. Or we inwardly convince ourselves that these things are irreplaceable.

Other clutterer convictions, according to Nelson (with some thoughts of my own), include:

• Feeling unloved. We fill our lives with things (even activities or people) to replace the love we lack or fear we'll lose.
• Feeling ‘less than’. We fill our lives to make us feel prettier, cooler, smarter, more successful than we inwardly feel. ‘Here's my stuff’, we seem to be saying, ‘judge that, not me’.
• Listening to old tapes. As children, many of us were told we weren't good enough – would never amount to much. Yet this is a self-fulfilling prophecy fed to us by psychologically ignorant people. Here, clutter can act as our umbilical cord to the past – perhaps always looking for a better result or the approval that will never come.
• Saving for a rainy day. Our parents may have known rationing or the straightened times of economic hardship. Indeed, previous generations may have been conditioned to hoard (revealed in behaviours such as saving Christmas wrapping paper), and have passed on these values. Within limits, such values are positive. Mixed with other insecurities, however, they can become barriers to our progress.
• Feeling overwhelmed. All those bills piling up, all those unanswered emails, all those commitments being pressed upon us – it feels like a tsunami of other people's requirements. Such pressures generate an emotional, even fearful, reaction that reinforces our feelings of inadequacy. Rather than take control, we do the opposite. We mentally (and sometimes physically) run away.
• Feeling guilty. Both ways – guilty for having the junk or having the unresolved or conflicting commitments, and guilty for throwing it away or saying ‘no’.
• Feeling like a failure. This is actually a sign of recovery, according to Nelson, because it's the next step on from the ‘less than’ feeling – the realization that our clutter is harming us and that we must, therefore, do something about it.
• Feeling confused. Nelson cites Lynda Warren, a Californian psychologist, describing clutterers as people that have difficulties making decisions. They are incapable of focus, and their cluttered lives reveal their inner confusion. No one has given them a map, so they lack direction and, therefore, cannot judge what they need, and don't need, for their journey; hence they hoard.

Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory

All of which makes cluttering a more disabling trait than it first appears. Indeed, combined with procrastination, cluttering forms part of what clinical psychotherapist Pat Pearson terms ‘self-sabotage’ in which we actually adopt behaviours with the specific intention (perhaps unconsciously) of destroying our own progress.

This could be in our dealings with others – perhaps telling them our weaknesses before they find out through observation (in the hope they'll treat us kindly). Or it could be in our actions – perhaps by playing the fool or deliberately missing appointments (maybe due to fear of failure).

Why would we do this? According to Pearson, in his book Stop Self-Sabotage (2008), we're – yet again – dealing with low self-esteem and the belief systems that we developed in childhood. If we believe we're not worthy of success (however measured), we'll adopt behaviours that prevent it.

These can include (with some thoughts of my own):

• Throwing it away. Falling victim to post-achievement de­­structive behaviour due to being ‘uncomfortable’ with success is a classic symptom of low self-esteem. Pearson cites the high divorce rates among pro-football stars in the US, although self-destructive, celebrity-style behaviour is common even in non-celebrity circles if success feels inwardly undeserved or perhaps ephemeral.
• Settling for less. We may stop short of our stated goals because our inner convictions assume we're unworthy of further attainment. Or we could ‘snatch defeat from the jaws of victory’ by sabotaging that final step – a common outcome for those with low self-esteem who may inwardly feel themselves unworthy of the benefits of attainment (and a very common problem for me).
• Resignation. We can even give in to the negative self-talk, which means we're defeated before we've even begun. A classic example is avoiding talking to an attractive stranger because we assume they'll find us unworthy of their engagement. Avoiding contested promotions in the workplace is part of the same dynamic, as is a compulsion to bring up our weaknesses at important job interviews. It's as if we're saying: ‘I know what you think, I agree, but please take pity’.
• The fatal flaw. Perfectionism, procrastination, narcissism (constantly requiring others' admiration): all are examples of a psychological flaw that, if ignored, could lead to self-sabotage despite strong progress. Pearson cites former US president Bill Clinton, whose one-parent upbringing potentially led to his narcissistic and self-destructive behaviour with Monica Lewinsky.
• Denial. The avoidance of unwanted or unpleasant truths can mean we minimize issues, or rationalize poor choices or behaviours, or even blame others: all forms of denial. And such behaviour can lead to a painful reckoning as the consequences of our actions crash over us (perhaps when others finally snap).

Deserve levels

‘As long as your unconscious mind is allowed to do the assessing and strategizing in your life, it becomes the spoiler’, writes Pearson, ‘able to generate a continual supply of self-sabotaging “strategies” that turn roads into ruts in your life.’

According to Pearson, such behaviours are based on where we set our ‘deserve levels’, which are fixed in childhood and may have been suppressed by demeaning parents, siblings, teachers or peers. The moment we cross that mental threshold, we move beyond our ‘comfort zone’ and subconsciously employ self-sabotaging tactics to bring us back down.

‘Your history is written deeply into your psyche’, says Pearson.

And unless you make strong efforts to raise your ‘deserve levels’ and tackle your own self-sabotaging behaviours, he believes, it will also determine your future.

That said, such a result is far from inevitable.