Best Years of My Life
Good morning, my Lovelies! Happy Saturday! I hope you are having an amazing weekend, whatever your plans may be.
I have a full day of writing planned, but I desperately needed to get some thoughts out of my head so that I can concentrate. Hopefully. And lucky you, you guys are the recipients of my angst, my depression, and the disappointment that I've felt this week!
Let me explain if I can. I know, and you know, that unless you've been blessed by the gods, have fallen into a pot of gold, or are just one of those people that fate smiles upon, things take time.
I am NOT one of those people. (Never have been. Never will be.)
It takes time to build a platform. It takes time to get your name out there. It takes time to see success in your endeavors.
I try my hardest to be patient, but I'm so frustrated right now. I can't seem to get my books into the hands of the "right" people. And by that I mean, people who have a massive following who can be influential in getting word of my stories out there. Please note that I used parenthesis around that word. You are all my right people, and I am unbelievably thankful for each and every one of you. I don't know what I would do without those of you who have decided that you like me and enjoy interacting with me. You make my world brighter each and every day.
So, what has caused my latest round of "I suck and I'm probably never going to be able to make a living doing what I love?" There was an announcement made this week about an author signing that I desperately want to be invited to. I have tried twice now to get on their list and I guess I'm not popular enough to draw their attention. In part, this sucks even more for me because it is in my home state. It kind of feels as if my roots have abandoned me. Weird, huh?
Logically I know that they probably had hundreds of submissions and I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Logically I know that there is still a possibility (slim, but still) that some of the authors invited could turn it down or back out and I might still get asked. Logically I know that I shouldn't get down on myself over not receiving an invitation.
Logic has never been my strong point.
No. Instead of accepting it for what it is and trying to keep a positive outlook, I've been on the verge of tears for days, have been a complete bitch to my family, and want nothing more than to hide in a darkened room and make myself sick on chocolate. Or, maybe, just find some way to numb my mind. (Hence the title of this blog. If you know, you know.)
Depressive episodes are the worst and when you combine them with imposter syndrome and feelings of inadequacy, they are debilitating.
Yay, me!
Now that I've gotten that out of my head, let's hope that I can actually get some work done. I've set some seriously high goals for my writing this year and I'm determined to give it my all.
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