I’m really sad right now as I write this.

I don’t want to have to write this, but when I feel things strongly I need to get the feelings out in writing. I’ve turned to writing my entire life. When I was younger, it was through keeping a journal. In recent years, it’s been through these blog posts or through my short stories and scripts.

As they say, take your broken heart, make into art.

We had to put our cat, Zoey, to sleep last Sunday (the 18th). She was only five years old. It honestly felt so fucking cruel. We went through something similar with our cat, Missy, whom we inherited from my grandparents after they’d passed. She ended up getting sick and dying despite our efforts to save her when we took her to the emergency vet. Similar circumstances with Zoey, sadly. We’d been taking her to the vet and had learned she was pre-diabetic, tried to change her diet but she kept losing weight and getting sicker. Took her to the emergency vet, took her to a pet specialist and after all that we still had to put her to sleep.

It’s really fucking unfair.

Again, I’m so fucking sad as I write this.

Sad and angry, I guess, if you can tell by the F-bombs (and I’m not fucking sorry for them).

I really thought things would be different this time around. I really thought spending a shit-ton of money and having experts take care of her would have actually saved her and prolonged her life by at least several more years. And now I can’t help feeling pathetic over my own naivety for thinking that. I wish believing in miracles were enough to make them come true. Of course, miracles do somehow happen every so often in life. And I’m a person who’s always believed in the power of miracles and fate and that things have a funny way of working out at times.

But sadly, sometimes the odds don’t work out. Sometimes you have to live with the practicality that things don’t always turn out the way you’d hoped. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you still fail. And there’s nothing you can do but either try again or move on.

I just really miss Zoey and wish things could have been different. I wish I had a magic touch to save her. But that’s something that can only be true in a fantasy world. The real world is cruel and evil sometimes. There’s so much horrible, horrific shit in the world. It’s why I watch the news very sparingly. I’m tired of feeling angry about horrible shit happening in our country and around the world. I’m tired of feeling let down and stuck and hopeless.

All of these ugly feelings reflect back on myself more-so lately than ever before. For years I’ve felt stuck in my career and in my life. For years I’ve been trying to get out of my current situation, namely by trying to find a new job. For years I’ve been interviewing all to no avail. And I keep letting myself down. I feel frustrated and upset. I feel like I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.

The one good thing I can share is that I’m planning on finally relocating this year. My current move-in date is November 5th. I was planning on moving on October 1st but pushed it back as I’ve been relentless with my job search more than ever. I was really hoping I’d have a job first before moving, but as that hasn’t panned out over the last several years, I finally went apartment hunting back in August, and I found a place I’m relatively happy with (in terms of the location, very happy. In terms of other stuff associated with the strifes of everyday living, that’s yet to be seen until I finally move and get acclimated to living on my own), but I still wish I could find a job that can lead me to something amazing.

For years I’ve applied to writing contests, and for years I’ve gotten next to nothing but rejections. The most I’ve gotten was placing as a quarter-finalist in a couple of contests a few years ago. But applying again and again with the same miserable results makes me question what I’m doing wrong there, too. I’ve taken classes. I’ve sent my scripts for notes. I know I’ve improved my writing with each new script I write. So why can’t I get what I want? What am I doing wrong? I feel like I’m getting closer, but it’s taking an obscenely long time to get there.

All I can hope is that something good will happen soon. I’m trying my best. I hate feeling like my best isn’t enough. And I hate sounding like I’m whining or wallowing. But really, I wish I knew what exactly I was doing wrong, or what else I haven’t tried in order to finally get my foot in the door so I can write for TV. I wish I knew the right person to meet who could point me to the right job opportunity in which I’d thrive. I wish I could prove to myself that doing all of this will be worth it, but it’s hard because so far I have little to nothing to show for all of my efforts. Great things take time, I certainly know that, but I really want something good to happen soon.

In the midst of all of this, I’ve decided to focus back on my picture book-writing efforts. I’ve been a member of Storyteller Academy for over two years now, and I still don’t have a submission-ready manuscript. I realize it’s because I tend to lose inspiration at times and get distracted and frustrated. It’s hard to stay motivated. But having a critique group has thankfully helped with that motivation. At the very least we’re able to commiserate with one another and share in our struggles and discouraged feelings. But I gave myself a new deadline to have a manuscript I’m proud of and ready to submit to agents by the end of next term, which would be around March. And here it is in writing to hold myself accountable in addition to telling my fellow critique group members. One of them agreed with me and said she’d like to use that timeline for herself as well.

I’ve thought about turning my comic book, A ROSY GLOW, into a picture book, and I think I’m going to really try to do that. I love the character, and I’ve thought about setting her in a classroom and seeing where her story goes next. So, consider this the grain of the idea. Now I’ll have to water it and care for it and see how it grows.

I miss you, Zoey, but at least you’re at peace now. I love you. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you. You’re such a sweet girl. I’m sad your life was so short. But you were so loved. You’re still so loved.

Rest In Peace, my angel.

I can only go up from here.

Take my broken heart, make into art.

Keep going. Never give up. That’s a reminder for you and for me. We’ll get there.