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Like an absolute moron (the pessimist in me is now talking) I use to dream of becoming published, yet I know it most likely won't happen. Unless I publish it myself, which I am. Though that doesn't matter neither because I doubt anyone would enjoy my story: "The Guardian of the Seventh Realm." I'm a nobody writer, not even a writer, just a guy who wrote (or is writting) a story.
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Now that you KNOW you won't be published, you are free to write
whatever you want. It can be a wonderfully freeing thing.
And the paradox is that if you write what you want, I mean
exactly what you want, what you think, your work starts to become more accessible to others, because you begin to strip off those layers of public expectation. Or at least that's how it works for me.
You wouldn't happen to be a fan of GK Chesterton, would you? If not, give him a whirl. He got me through a lot of rough times. The rough times still come and go, but not as bad as they used to be. And if you can find CS Lewis's book on George MacDonald, he has excerpted a lot of MacDonald's passages on
dryness of spirit, which I also found to be a great help.
And it wouldn't be much of a triumph if it wasn't much of a trial, would it?