My paper got rejected. Again. This makes, um, 15 or so times in a row.
It's hard not to take that personally.
In high school, my big group of girl friends tended to play a vicious little game of "pick one girl and decide she's awful and shun her." It wasn't quite that intentional, but it happened regularly enough to practically be a routine. In the spring of my freshman year, I somehow got to be "it". They had a code word for me and everything. And they used it to talk meanly about me right in front of me. It was traumatizing, awful, scarring, and, let's go ahead and call it character building.
Ever since, I have this sort of semi-reasonable paranoia (um, character?) that there's a "We Hate Julie" club. Someone cancels on a meet-up? Must have joined the "We Hate Julie" club. Someone ignores my suggestion but then heartily supports the same idea when another person suggests it five minutes later? Charter members of the newest We Hate Julie club. It's a joke in our house. My dear friend, Briana, is my secret (no longer as I am now blowing it) undercover spy serving as the treasurer in a rather large chapter.
So, yes, having my paper rejected more than a dozen times and yet seeing other people publishing similar ideas and results in the same outlets tends to feed my crazy.
Today, I got initiated into a different, far superior club.
An "anonymous" package came today, assuring me that while the editors may not be granting me much success, I'm part of an elite and prestigious success club in its own right.
Thanks, "Bean". Whoever you might be.