Motivation

According to all reliable sources, I grew up as a person that lacked motivation. I was smart, witty, fast, but otherwise useless, since nothing could predict the length of my attention span over one particular point. Some called me lazy, some just shook their head in disappointment. I was devastated myself that I was so superficial, yet I could not grasp control. I grew up as a victim of my own mental paralysis. 
Things changed, to an extent, later on in life, but not decisively. It would be more accurate to say that I have educated a sense of determination and self-discipline onto myself, but that inner drive - never showed up.
It's not that I don't have ambitions, because I do. As well, energy and can-do attitude, desire to learn and dreams of achievement. Yet, when I loosen the leash, unfrown my eyebrows, I see a creepy do-nothing self that takes hold. She's tasteless, colorless, insipid and ugly. She wastes time and likes nothing. Who is she? If that is the real me, the core that I am struggling to cosmetize with "let's go"s and "let's do"s on a minutely basis, than how long can I keep up with that? Is it a lie? Am I self-delusional?
I think of it as a crippled limb that needs rehabilitation. Maybe I was born with poor wiring in the motivation-responsible area of my brain, but I don't have to live with it. The brain is like one of those transformer robots, constantly reshaping, so I will count on that. I will continue to impulse myself artificially in hope that one day it will become a habit. Then I will write a book about it and help everyone in need overcome this handicap. How's that for motivation?