A Writer's Notebook, Day Seven-Hundred-And-Thirty-Two

 I received another rejection letter tonight, and it is making me spiral into that same negative space again, and is not at all good for me or my relationships or any other aspect of my life, but I do not have any way that I can find to alter it, and the only thing that I can think of that is worse than feeling like this is feeling guilty for it, but that does not change the reality that it is untenable for me to continue as I am.  I do have any solutions, I only know that the current state is not one I can remain in.  I've said it before, but I am truly understanding now the notion that this kind of stagnation, of repeating the same actions in hopes of a new result, is a recipe for madness.  I don't know what I can do about it, really, and I am attempting to not get into that same spiral of analysis, discussing what does not work or why, because has done nothing at all.  I am just at a point where I know I need a change, or this will explode in some negative way.  I wish I could at least find someone who would offer me real help, and not tell me to keep doing the same thing.  Those who tell me my work is good, who have encouraged me all these years, they do not offer any advice beyond what I am already doing, and those unfamiliar with my work whom I speak with will often assume it must be a result of the writing itself, which is a valid assumption, but if it is the case, I still have to ask why it is not something I am able to learn, or that has even been pointed out to me by other writers, many of whom do have more success getting published.  I am getting into that same kind of thinking again, and I don't want to spiral out that way.  I need to find some way beyond this, and I do not know how to find it.  I need help I cannot find, and I am just miserable, and miserable to be around.  It is not sustainable.  I do not know what to do.