Roped In

It was my own self that roped myself in!
I even composed a song about it after I had the realization entitled, "How low do I rope myself in?"
I thought of it while lying on my mattress covered with holy white sheets.
Then, I lowered ropes down around myself. Yes! It was I, my own self, that roped myself down low!
I thought I needed all of those ropes, but it was a misunderstanding on my part.
You see, I participated in exhausting searches for ancient books encrusted in metallic casings.
Of course, they were encased because they contained some piece of timeless knowledge inside. So I devised an apparatus from a medieval design I found (yes, in an encased book!) and it involved wooden scaffolding, rope, and a dozen people to pull.
If all went well, high on the scaffolding, ropes tugging at the carapace, the book painfully peeled away from the metal and I was left with my object of inspiration.
But the problem from all of this was that I was roping myself in too low and it was my own self that did the roping!