I wasn’t expecting it, at all. It’s not only great news, but a great way to start the day, a great thing to wake up to. (Although having my friend’s border collie jumping on me at the same time took away a little of the magic haha.) I woke up to my phone ringing. I normally try to answer numbers I don’t know just because I’ve been in the situation where I’ve needed to use a strange number to call someone and I know how it feels to have someone ignore the call simply because it’s a strange number. I wasn’t as excited as I could’ve been, simply because I woke up mere seconds before from my phone ringing in my ear and my friend’s dog wanting attention.
As excited as I was, my depression kicked in later.
It was probably accepted out of pity, I thought, if I could get in, anyone can, so how is it an accomplishment, or anything worth bragging about really?
I had to remind myself that not everybody gets formally published. I had to remember back to when I worked for Progenitor, how we usually liked the pieces written by people who have bachelors or masters degrees in creative writing or english and that great pieces by those who didn’t really had natural talent. I had to think about what the value of being published in a literary magazine before might mean to a literature publishing company.
The depressive rain cloud of my recently discovered health problems casted over me just the same.
Let’s just say that surgery is definitely being discussed and is most likely going to be in my near future, everyone’s just exchanging their records and reports on my health history first.
As painful as it was to recall the struggle to get everyone caught up, it didn’t depress me as bad once I was able to remember that my accomplishment really was an accomplishment.
When I did, I felt like there was new hope for me, that I really am more than something ill or diseased whose sole existence is to suffer to get someone else money. Knowing that my odds of getting published with a traditional publishing company have increased, I almost feel obligated to see what my limits really are.
It makes me wonder if my life will return to normal again one day, that I’ll have that fair fighting chance to beat the statistics that almost every foster kid wants.