I had a really rough time a few weeks ago. The green-eyed monster decided to pay me a visit, and every time I saw a fellow author's post on Facebook about how many copies they had sold or some great review they received, I got really jealous. I thought, "Why can't that be me? What am I doing wrong?" I became slightly depressed and it was hard for me to write.
Then, I got sick. Actually, the whole family got sick. The oldest child plagued us with a stomach bug, so no one was really sleeping and there was puke everywhere (literally). It wasn't fun. Everything is so much darker when you don't feel well, and it explains why I felt the way I felt.
When I first started writing, I was an incredibly jealous person. I hated that other people were getting writing contracts and I wasn't. I hated that they were successful at what they were doing and I was struggling. As the years have gone by, I've stopped wasting so much energy worrying about what others are doing and focused on what I have to do.
Since then, I've had a ton of successes. I've had several books published in various genres. I give presentations based on my nonfiction book--that I actually get paid for. I have a fantastically supportive network of friends who are incredibly encouraging and helpful.
Yeah, there are going to be people out there who are better than I am, who have more success, who make more money. It's part of life. Pick any cliche about the grass being greener or keeping up with the Joneses. But being jealous and getting upset about that isn't going to change anything. The only thing that's going to change it is me.
I can't deny my friends or fellow authors their success. More than likely, they went through the same struggles I have gone through. They deserve it. Do I wish it was me? Of course. But one day it will be.