A hundredth of an MB has never carried so much weight

So there's this email. A very long, misleading, enigma of an email. I want to delete it, trust me. On several occasions, I've found myself hovering the mouse over it, but in the end, my thumb could not find the inclination to just click.

Why this email was sent, I don't know. Perhaps to mock me? Perhaps to dissuade me? Or maybe I'm just plain reading too far into it. In any case, I really wish I hadn't received it, because it turned things weird for a while and somehow, after a long and winding chain of events, screwed up an entire year for me.

And it is stuff like this that makes me the paranoid, obsessive little thing I am today. Everything I do is so choppy and fragmented that I can't seem to find any worth in my work anymore. I have this awful tendency to make things bad for myself, and that all seems to widdle down to self pity. I am setting myself up mentally for failure and I have no one to blame for it but myself.

Seeking a way out of this hole, I logged off for what seemed like an eternity, trying to avert my attention to "more important" things than this blog. I was wrong in neglecting an outlet, and discerning what is important by someone else's standards. I am done waiting for approval-- I am ready to take a leap of faith and see where I go. It's time to be myself, because that's what I'm best at, and anyone intimidated by or uncomfortable with that is not worth my time or audience.