This week has been rough. I haven’t been blogging as I should, and that’s mainly because I’m starting to psych myself out. It was fun and easy to vomit the words out when there were maybe two people reading the posts.

But somehow, these topics I’m blogging about have attracted people. I’ve gotten emails of varying natures… some encouraging, some understanding, some that wanted to share but couldn’t put it out there in the world in a comment. I understand that.

So now… there are more people here. The stats on this website have tripled in the last month. It’s terrifying. Why are they here? Why do these people stick around? You guys… I’m not that interesting. I’m really not. I’m just an emotionally-broken writer throwing what she feels out into the world. But it was easier to do when I didn’t think anyone was reading it.

Not that it doesn’t make me happy every time I see a comment come through. I smile every time one comes through and I attempt to answer every one of them personally. Because if people are going to comment here, they deserve an answer.

But here isn’t just where I’m feeling inadequate.

My brother just bought a house. This house… it’s two stories, has a game room, a pretty nice backyard. The whole house is spacious and glorious and I hate him for having the house I would have loved. I tried hard not to feel jealous, you guys. I really did. Just being in that house made me want to scream, because I’m not going to be in a position where I can buy a house for many more months yet.

I’m a horrible person for thinking so.

But this is not the only instance of my jealousy. It’s been a common theme all week. A friend of mine signed a contract this week. I’m happy for her. I really am. I love all the things she’s been doing. But my little green-eyed monster is rearing its ugly little head. Another friend wrote this story that blew me away. There’s that green-eyed monster again. These are just examples but it’s slowly building. More things are sticking out in my head, that little green-eyed monster is growing larger and more sadistic, whispering these little taunts that I’m not good enough, forcing me into thinking about why I’m doing any of this and if I even deserve the things that I do yet.

I wonder if the reason why things aren’t coming along for me is because I’m putting too much pressure on myself. It’s been known to happen. I set lofty goals. I should work on that. but for now, I just want to get this green-eyed monster under control. Because I hate the way it makes me feel.

Like I’m not as good as other writers.

Like I’m not improving, while I’ve watched others grow and bloom as writers.

Because I am good enough. I do deserve good things.

So this is me, heading out to find those good things.

Everybody do me a favor today. Go out and find a writer. Encourage them. Let them know how awesome they are. Because everyone needs to hear that once in a while.