Lizzie's realm

I've been going through some old works of mine on Fanfiction.net- mostly,DC and Marvel Fanfiction; one of them, in particular, was a cross-over between the X-Men Fandom and the Green Lantern one- to be more accurate, a Phoenix Force/Green Lantern thing.
The whole "Rise of the Phoenix" thing is over six years old, and do you want to know what I thought as I was re-reading it? (Because lately I've been into old things, movies, fanfictions, comic books- especially comic books, the DC from the 90s was great - and books, it doesn't matter, they just have to be a few years old and I'm game)
My grammar was awful, and I wasn't doing any better with the lexicon.
My characterization was terrible. And let's not talk about dialogues or plot.
How, how can I not recognize my own work oafter just a few years? I wasn't a baby back then: for God's sake, six years ago I was already 26- 26 years old. And, Ok, I've drammattically increased the hours of television watched in English in the last few years, but could I have been so different? My style, my structure, just... everything?
How comes that I read it- things that I was oh, so proud of when I put them down on the screen - and I wonder: How did I like it? How could I love so much this piece? Did I really write this myself?
Please- pretty please with cherry  on top- tell me that I'm not the only one feeling like this- and that it's not just because I'm not a mother-language...

One thing good about lj? I can write and write and write about how depressed I feel,  rambling and rantling, and I don't get lectures about it. this si for eltting you know there's gonna be a pity party here, of the minor and probably insignificant kind, so, be aware... nothing really interesting here, just me, rabling about... well, life.
It's abd enought insomnia has come back with a passion and a vengance as well, because it's days since I ahd more than 2-3 hours of sleep, or at least, continuous sleep. if  I sleep, I wake up every hour or so, and it's not really helpful. it's not making me feel any better; in the mroning, I wake up feeling already bad, and with the days agoing ona nd on as they are, it's not ehlping me getting more sleep. it's what happens with your insomnia is of the nervous kind.  work is't getting too weel, and i'm still waiting for teh heath department to come and tell me when I'll be able to open my shop, since I recently moved. I just can't being closed any longer, I'm almsot money-less, and I really don't know what I'll do when.. well, wehn. I know I could ask my grandfather, but I can't really ask them, knowing how delightful they'll be in yet again another failure of mine - and of mother. I can already see my grandmother laughing under her teeth. and yes, she does so, like when I was argiung with mother, and she laughed histerically like mad because of it.
I've been crying, for some unknown reasons, for the last couple fo days. the earthquackes we are having ehre in Italy in the last couple of weeks could be reason enough- and even if we are quite far away from where it actually was yesterday, we even did feel it here 8economical issues my also be concerned, of course. it's not good seeing people lamenting about theri financiuals, just to see them buying signed clothes on the main street while I haven't bought myslef a single item of nothing in over a year...)
. I'm also supposed to get a doctor's appointment, to check on my blood levels, and see how my insulin and sugars in my body are behaving. it's been too long since last time I actually check them, but I really never felt like doing it, but lately, I'm really feeling bad, and since we've been lucky enough grandfather's cancer hasn't returned, I think I'll finally look after me for a ,little while. I already know it will be bad, I'm not so lucky to be an healthy individual, but I'll guess I'll egt what life will throw at me. what will be, it will be. che sarà, sarà, like the soing says, even if I'm not promising to stop crying my heart out anytime soon.
Still single, still not anyone on sight, and still sick and tired anough that my last and only seruosi relationship has been... well, a long time ago, and new developemnts? what new developments? I don't even know the meaning of them, hell, I haven't been on a date that could axctually be called a date in.... I think years, and I totally forgot what flirting may mean. I haven't met anyone in a lifetime, litterally, and i'm not even sure when I'll finally egt around to. truth is, the hard I try to meet new people, the harder it is, it seems that whatever I egt interested in soemthing, no one is doing as well, and if they are, they are not interested in me. I'm too plain, too short, too fat, too childish, too myself... and it's getting tyring, it really is. many of my old friends are into a relationship, few of them are married with children, and I'm the last one standing. they don't evne invinte me over nay longer because they don't want me to feel like the third wheel. or maybe they don't want the old splinter to ruin the mood getting the pity eyes from everyone.
I don't know. I juyst know I feel bad, and... it is bad. hell, I'm even crying right now talking about it! that's how pathetic I am. and people asks me while I don't show this around...
A long time ago, writing would have helped me, and I even have so many ideas... but I don't have the strenght to start writing, I don't feel liek taking my own pen or start typing... thta's how bad it is, how bad I feel right now.
Blah.