Sometimes it's hard to look on the bright side

After 5 years of working 8-20 hours a day every day on my writing, I'm finally at the point of accepting that "Do what you love and the money will follow" isn't working for me.

I have to believe there's got to be another reason that all my hard work hasn't paid off. I figure, over the 5 year span of time, I made about $5/day. Which comes out to about what? $0.30 an hour?

And I haven't just been working on my writing. I've been working hard on me. I've done so much and changed so much, so why isn't my external world reflecting my internal world?

I'm a writer - it's WHO I am. But since I can't make a living on it, it looks like I'm going to have to go out and get a job - I HATE JOBS. They don't work for me. They're awful, and constrictive, and squash me until I'm a writhing mess on the floor. The last JOB I had made me suicidal.

I'm bummed and feel like crying, but am desperately scrambling to figure out what went wrong and how I can change things around.

I can't live like this. And yet I can't live like 'that' either.

I'm not sure what went wrong. I'd say maybe it's just that I'm fundamentally wrong, but that tends to annoy my guardians and guides.

I'm tired. I could break into tears at any moment.

Stop the world. I want to get off.


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