Chronic Loser Disease

The doctor stands out in the hall, whispering in a hushed tone, but I can still hear him loud and clear, "Hopeless case. I'm sorry there is no treatment for a case this bad. This only thing we can do is to warn people to stay away."
My disease is a common one, a painful one, one that involves long battles of decreasing self worth, long nights of sobbing into a pillow, long hours of sitting alone feeling like I just swallowed a bucket of nails.
My disease is the Chronic Loser Disease.

Why am I writing this? Well I think I'll explode if I don't get all this out, and because I'm sick of crying into my pillow. A sopping wet pillow doesn't do anyone any good.
Right now I feel like I've been stabbed in the heart, ever felt this way? A pain in your heart so strong, so real, that burns and aches, caused by the cruelty of another person? Or persons?

Hi, I am the invisible person.
Although sometimes I'm the wall, or a desk, or a very decorative garbage can.
People can see right through me, past me. Sometimes they don't even notice the fact that I'm even there.
Being invisible sucks.
Have you noticed that there seems to be at least one invisible person in every class? The person who sits alone, head low, eyes downcast, refusing to look up. The person who nobody wants to know because this person has the "I am a LOSER!!! My loser disease is very contagious! Avoid me at ALL possible costs!!!" warning sign that the person can't see pinned to their back.
The person who WISHES that they truly were invisible.
I wish that I wasn't talking from personal experience.
Loser out.

My evil plan

Behold the woes of a horseless horse crazy woman. Those of us who have had to work for their time with horses knows how this feels, none to good. I have spent hours bemoaning the fact that I don't have a horse, I wasted years wishing for one but not doing anything about my No Horse Syndrome.
Until my discovery two years ago.
I can write and I can write well.
Writing books is something I found I'm good at, It's a nice job, you pick the hours and you're your own boss (nobody, beyond yourself, leaning over your shoulder screaming, "DO THIS! DO THAT! BE HERE! BE THERE! blah, blah, blah.)
My evil plan of evilness is to publish books, sounds very simple. But just take a good look at famous authors who are rolling in money becuase of their books, (okay not rolling in money but richer then me) and some of them, (no offense and not telling who) can't even write that well and their famous for their books that aren't the best books I've ever picked up.
I have come a LONG way from the person who picked up a pencil and a horsy notebook and said, "I'm going to write a book, it'll be an EASY way to get a horse."
To this day I am still eating my words, EASY is not a word to describe the up hill down hill plunges I've taken while writing. EASY isn't the word I would use to describe what I've written, torn apart, yelled at, got two inches away from stomping on, and riping my hair out over. EASY is NOT a word in my vocabulary anymore.
My plan of evilness is still in working progress and it is not in ANY way EASY!!!
I've written countless drafts of a certian story, each one took me five to six months to complete, and then just like magic I took a break from that story and began writing another one, I finished the first draft in a month and fourteen days.
A MONTH AND FOURTEEN DAYS compared to SIX MONTHS, sheesh.
I'm still writing the second draft, and now I'm asking for help, asking for someone, (anyone who knows what writing a book is like) who knows how to get over the first draft blues, (and the second draft, and the third draft, and the fourth draft...) to help me get over this, can't get beyond drafts, wants to be published problem.
HELP!!!
From a very desperate author who is trying to get a horse, blog over.