I feel like I'm dreaming. Actually, now that I think about it, I feel this way often. I look around at my life and wonder how I got to be so lucky. And then I remember-it wasn't luck that brought me here, but hard work and faith.
I made this happen.
I made this happen.
Below is a journal I penned 3 1/2 years ago, when my dreams of writing a book and living abroad and well... pretty much every wild aspiration I have recently achieved--were only dreams.
November 19, 2011
I feel that writing may be the absolute source of bipolar for me. I finally find the words that belong in my story to be able to finish a chapter and with that, I am soaring with purpose and pride. I feel like I am finally moving, finally finding the place in life where things "click". Then I start to work on the next chapter, only to sink into the depths of desperation again. The blogs that are the basic foundation for my book are not well written... at all. They have the backdrop of good writing, but they are smothered in elementary mistakes. I was feeling so great, and now I feel hopeless again. I look at the pages in front of me, covered in scratches and scribbles, a potential of greatness but in reality an insignificant failure. The only thing I can hear, thankfully, whispering beyond my doubt, is a small but strong voice beneath it all saying, "It's okay Jillian, you will figure it out. You'll transform it into something great. You will. Just keep writing. Don't stop writing." I sigh, pick up my pencil again, and can only hope with every letter, every word, I'll find my chapter in the madness."
Today, I walk the streets of Wellington, just elated. The first copy of my book has come in the mail. My book. I worked and I worked and I edited and I worked, and now it is everything I imagined it could be. And it exists. This dream I've held for years now physically exists. Tears fill my eyes as I hold its weight with my hands, gripping the pages and the binding, tracing the title with my fingertips.
It's finally here.
Scared to Life will be unleashed in one short month, and the possibilities are limitless.
I can't wait to share it with you.
Do you want to know the secret to living your wildest dreams?
Never give up.
-Ever.
November 19, 2011
I feel that writing may be the absolute source of bipolar for me. I finally find the words that belong in my story to be able to finish a chapter and with that, I am soaring with purpose and pride. I feel like I am finally moving, finally finding the place in life where things "click". Then I start to work on the next chapter, only to sink into the depths of desperation again. The blogs that are the basic foundation for my book are not well written... at all. They have the backdrop of good writing, but they are smothered in elementary mistakes. I was feeling so great, and now I feel hopeless again. I look at the pages in front of me, covered in scratches and scribbles, a potential of greatness but in reality an insignificant failure. The only thing I can hear, thankfully, whispering beyond my doubt, is a small but strong voice beneath it all saying, "It's okay Jillian, you will figure it out. You'll transform it into something great. You will. Just keep writing. Don't stop writing." I sigh, pick up my pencil again, and can only hope with every letter, every word, I'll find my chapter in the madness."
Today, I walk the streets of Wellington, just elated. The first copy of my book has come in the mail. My book. I worked and I worked and I edited and I worked, and now it is everything I imagined it could be. And it exists. This dream I've held for years now physically exists. Tears fill my eyes as I hold its weight with my hands, gripping the pages and the binding, tracing the title with my fingertips.
It's finally here.
Scared to Life will be unleashed in one short month, and the possibilities are limitless.
I can't wait to share it with you.
Do you want to know the secret to living your wildest dreams?
Never give up.
-Ever.
Me holding the first copy of my book.
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