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Freaking out again. *sigh* - December 20th 2014, 04:52 AM

I apologize if this reads disjointedly or makes little sense. It's midnight here, and I can't sleep again.

I've been working on a book since the first part of November, and I'm getting more and more pessimistic about it everyday.

I don't want a normal life. I want a gorgeous one, one that I can look back on when I'm an old lady and say: "Hey, I did lots of things that no one even dreamed of doing."

I don't have a job right now. There is no potential of me getting a job in the county that I live. I despise this place with every fiber of my being. I don't like the culture, I don't like the people. I refuse to form ties with anyone or anything that dwells here, beyond the family and seventy-two acre stretch of land I already cherish.

There aren't any decent jobs. I worked at a diner through last summer, and that job was one of the three available positions I know of in the entire town. The other jobs are at the Piggly Wiggly's and Family Dollar, and Gods, if I had to work at either of those places, I think I might despair and wither away to nothing. I don't have a car, my parents don't have enough extra money to help me buy one, and the nearest town is thirteen miles away.

I've worn the same three outfits over and over again since last Spring. I dropped out of college within the first twenty-four hours. I tried and failed to qualify for a singing competition. I haven't had a serious boyfriend in over a year. I have one friend. I stressed out and gained weight like crazy (which I'm working on in the healthiest, sanest way I know). I haven't been to the movies in three years. Before an outing on Monday with my grandma, I hadn't left this farm in over a month. I haven't slept more than six hours a night for what feels like years, because I feel like I should be doing something to change my circumstances. I have one-hundred-fifty dollars. My mattress sucks, and I can't afford to buy a new one. I want to be sterilized, but my state-provided insurance doesn't cover the procedure. I want to have a tiny cabin to move into, just so I can stop feeling like I'm mooching off my parents, even if I have to live on songbirds and beech nuts forever - but, I don't think anyone takes me seriously. I barely take me seriously. All I have is my personality, a half-finished book, and my family.

Finishing this book was my solitary hope. I was going to use it to buy a stove and two solar panels for my one-room cabin, and save the rest to buy the barest necessities of food (including seeds for a garden) to provide for myself throughout the upcoming year.

Well, last week I accidentally deleted three entire 3,000-word chapters. I'd written a fifth of my 156,000-word rough draft, and this 10,000-word loss set me back an entire week's worth of work. What I've written to replace the losses is mediocre at best - and even that seems better than what I'd worked on initially. Then, I was stupid enough to research how much a first-time author could project to earn from their first book, and I found myself sitting at this desk in tears.

It's been spiraling downward for the past hour. I probably can't sleep again, because I'm so restless to get my life started. But the life I imagined for myself... The life where I publish enough books each year to feed myself, clothe myself, and manage to avoid working at Piggly Wiggly's in the process? It's an impossible dream, and really, I just want to give up.

But I can't, because there's no other option. There's no other way out. I don't want to be a failure, and in my mind, anything less than bringing my dreams into reality is a failure.

West Virginia is a noose, slowly squeezing the life out of me.

And of course, this post is riddled with thought distortions, but who cares? I'm hurting, and by the Gods, I don't want to reason away my pain this time. I just want to give myself a chance to wallow in it, and be a helpless little fool again.


ANNA
ENTJ, HERMIT, AUTHOR.
"The most notorious ill-fortune must, in the end, yield to the untiring courage of philosophy - as the most stubborn city to the ceaseless vigilance of the enemy." - Edgar Allan Poe

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Re: Freaking out again. *sigh* - December 25th 2014, 10:28 AM

Despite of all bad staff, believe in yourself any way. If you managed to write a fifth of your 156,000-words draft, you will find the inspiration to finish the book. Don't read fail stories about writers and their first books. That's truth for them, but won't be the truth for you. Many real geniuses suffered before being recognized.

Don't let depression and stress destroy you. You are talented and creative person, you will reach the stars if you want, all in your hands!

Believe in yourself, cause I believe in you!


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  (#3 (permalink)) Old
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Name: Anna
Gender: I'm a lady, thank you very much.
Location: A farm in the Appalachians.

Posts: 207
Join Date: October 1st 2014

Re: Freaking out again. *sigh* - December 25th 2014, 05:29 PM

Quote:
Originally Posted by O'Nell View Post
Despite of all bad staff, believe in yourself any way. If you managed to write a fifth of your 156,000-words draft, you will find the inspiration to finish the book. Don't read fail stories about writers and their first books. That's truth for them, but won't be the truth for you. Many real geniuses suffered before being recognized.

Don't let depression and stress destroy you. You are talented and creative person, you will reach the stars if you want, all in your hands!

Believe in yourself, cause I believe in you!
This is perhaps the best advice I've ever received.

Thank you. And, thank you for saying you believe in me. It means a lot.


ANNA
ENTJ, HERMIT, AUTHOR.
"The most notorious ill-fortune must, in the end, yield to the untiring courage of philosophy - as the most stubborn city to the ceaseless vigilance of the enemy." - Edgar Allan Poe

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