At a loss

I’ve Googled the fuck out of it, reading articles and stories and blogs. I followed the little how toos step by step. Started my own blog, wrote daily, be it in a journal, on Facebook or on the novel I’m attempting to write. Just write, write, write, write. Find a niche they said. Guest post on other people’s blogs was another suggestion, but how the fuck do I do that? Flow traffic into my web page? Huh? Once again, how in the fuck do I do that? I’m at a loss. I’m nowhere closer to being a writer now then I was 43 years ago. Well maybe not that long but you get my jest. It’s a little disheartening. It’s hard to stay positive. I will write something that at least to me sound legit as fuck. Poetic and shit, something I find moving or motivational. Something that I think is badass and superwell writen. And I’ll get 2 likes, maybe 3. Almost never do I have someone comment, and I get a new follower like every 2 weeks, sometimes longer. On a good day I might get 25 views on my page. My best blog has maybe 12 likes. I have no idea what I’m doing. From writing something to marketing it, I’m completely lost. I have no idea how to use key words to make my site more visible to search engines. No idea how to grow my following or how to get more traffic to my page. I’ve done everything that Google suggests to become a professional writer, minus throwing money at it. I was hoping to avoid having to do that. I had hoped to be able to succeed simply on the things I’ve wrote but that’s almost laughable. In my dreamland I would have started my blog, steadily gaining followers. Other bloggers would have asked me to guest post on their page which would have helped my blog grow even faster. After 2 years, which is close to where I’m at now, I’d have 50,000, maybe even 100,000 followers. Each blog that I’d write would get 20/30 likes almost guaranteed and I would regularly have people commenting on them. I’d have at least a small understanding of marketing and what it takes to build a brand. And by the time I finished writing my first novel, I’d have over 150,000 followers and a huge emailing list so I would be able to self-publish and actually be successful with my first book. Making money and developing a fan base. Then the alarm goes off and I wake up in bed, scratching my nuts and wondering how I’m gonna make some money today. Wondering why I’m still wasting my time trying to write anything. Why I renew my domain name and try to adhere to some kind of program with my writing? My novel took off like a bat of hell with me writing close to 40,000 words within the first month of starting it. I started out excited and energized with it. Optimistic about its chances. Enamored with its characters, I had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to take it and how I was gonna take it there. The first 40,000 words flew by so quick that I began to think I was gonna have to turn it into more then one book, maybe I’d have to stretch it into three. Then I don’t even know what happened, I just fell off. Not just on the book but with everything. My Facebook post drop to almost nothing, I went months without a blog post, shit I even stopped writing in my journal. I even stopped writing the little to-do lists and shopping lists that I always write. I’m not 100% sure but I feeling like it could have been when I rolled my jeep. I rolled it 7 times going 90 mph on interstate 5 in Oregon after I fell asleep at the wheel. I woke up and it was just to late, I was already fucked. That shit kicks my ass. I wasn’t wearing a seat belt and so in order to remain inside the jeep I grabbed the steering wheel and hung on for dear life. It was both a good and bad idea. Good because I remained in the jeep but bad because doing so beat my ass. I broke my orbital bone, my nose. I feel like I broke my jaw but I’m not sure. I also broke my clavicle and a shit ton of ribs. I was in bad shape but my jeep was in worse, laying on its roof. Smashed up completely with my possessions scattered across the interstate. My best friend wouldn’t drive the hour and twenty minutes it would have taken him to come rescue me. The following day he said he found drugs in my room and so I had to go. Bye bye. With no vehicle I was unable to retrieve my property asking him if he could look after it until I managed to get another vehicle which I had hoped to do when he paid me the $1,600 he owed me for work I did for his company. He neither paid me the money he owed me nor did he look after my stuff, claiming his wife threw away all of my stuff. So in a relatively short period of time I lost my jeep, my place to stay, my job, nearly $2,000 owed to me, and the kicker? The kicker was the loss of my best friend and then the reality of the fact that our friend was a lot more one sided then I’d ever noticed before. I think that was the roadblock, or the writers block, or both. I was beat up which took months for me to totally heal from and that’s just physically. Mentally it felt like I got bodyslamed onto broken glass. I felt more then a little betrayed and thrown away. I didn’t even really know what to think or how to feel and so I didn’t really know what to write or how to write it. I’d make an attempt only to throw it away halfway through it. Anything I wrote looked boring and uninspiring. I wasn’t happy with one thing I wrote and so I didn’t write shit. After awhile I managed to pull myself out of my depression and decided I would at least give it one more shot. So I went back to Google, reading and researching. I started blogging again, a lot slower and less frequent then when I’d started. I little discouraged and possibly a little jaded. I felt like either I was doing something wrong or forgetting something altogether. I felt my confidence slipping, I struggled with ideas to write about. After like 2 years I still hadn’t found my niche, my website barely has 80 followers, let alone the 50,000 to 100,000 I had envisioned at the start. I have no following, no fan base, nobody singing my praises or complimenting something I wrote. But regardless I still tried to write and I eventually broke through my writers block. No full speed ahead or anything but it was a start. I’ve been trying to be consistent and I’ve never really been a quitter but I’m struggling with direction. I’d like to tune into some kind of positive frequency and vibrate from there but like attracts like and I’ve been stuck on a negative frequency for so long that it’s almost like I’m in quicksand, like I’m on a hamster wheel. I just need a tiny little boost. One little chance. Actually fuck that. I don’t need a chance, I have a chance that I’m gonna get hit by a car trying to cross the street. Fuck a chance I just need one little opportunity. Give me that and I will take off like a rocket, bound for the stars.