Kick to the Face

Hey all, I hope you had a good Thanksgiving, ours was a little squeaky. Meaning that my little sister found a mouse in her room and was reasonably freaked out. We haven't found anymore mice, but it's a little worrisome. How did it get into our house? When the people came to deliver our furnace? In the box of homegrown apples we go?
No idea.
Otherwise Thanksgiving was okay. I love stuffing. Not even homemade. It's the cheap store-bought stuff, and it is delicious.
But not everything is hunky-dory.
I've been trying to avoid social media for the past three days. Not because I hate it, but because I didn't want to continue my trend of becoming increasingly grouchy as I looked at it. I managed to keep up a three day streak until I finally decided to look.
First thing. I only had one email.
One.
I know we shouldn't judge ourselves on how many emails we get, but that's still a little condemning. Ah, my trend as a nothing loser continues apparently.
What's more the email was like a kick to the face. Someone else getting what I wanted. I literally burst into tears. Funny how I haven't ever really done that before, bursting into tears I mean. Usually I have to want to cry and then they come out.
Not this time.
One email.
One harsh kick to the face.
The tears came out, nice and hard.
When will it finally be my turn? I have to keep wondering this. So many other people are getting breaks, but I'm still trudging through miles of thigh-deep mud. AAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
That's my vocalization for this moment.
Part of me wonders if it's even worth it anymore. Writing. So far it's only made me $75.08 (rough estimate) and left me dragging. Seriously. I sit in front of my computer and that snaky little voice in the back of my head whispers "why bother? No one will care!"
I wonder if I should listen to it.
When my computer finally dies I think that'll be it. My writing career over. No one cares anyway. If I suddenly quit it wouldn't be the end of the world for anyone.
I'll find a new hobby in fashion design maybe. I did learn how to turn boot cut jeans into skinny and to this point I have broken two sewing machine needles while doing so. I didn't manage to do it perfectly though. One pair flopped and so I mutilated it with a pair of scissors. All that time jabbing myself with pins wasted.
i.e. I feel like a failure. I did what I thought I loved and it flopped. Scissors can't take that sting away.
Funny how one email can crush the resolve I thought I had. When will I stop getting kicked in the face? Time and time again people who don't deserve it get what I have spent years longing for. I do a lot of work, I forgo sleep, social outings, and sometimes my sanity and nothing happens.
Ever feel like this? Like the heavens have put you on hold as you scream for help?
Yep.
That's me.
Kicked in the face.