Inner Doubts

I'm starting to have doubts about my future. I mean, I've always had doubts, but now they have become more serious. Now, it isn't just a grade on the line, it's a whole career. I do believe that my journaling has somewhat helped me. I'm just absolutely terrified that people wouldn't enjoy my writing. I know that's just part of life, but I hate the fact that my way of living would be judged and be heavily reliant on the opinions of other people. I want to be a writer and I know that being a writer would grant me the autonomy that I crave. However, the quality of writing is subjective. After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Then, there goes my mind again:
What if, as someone holds up my thoughts in comparison to another's, and decides that mine are uglier?
What if the things that make my mind work are considered to be horrifically gruesome while someone else's becomes the crown jewel?
I want to be able to see my work be appreciated. I want to live long enough to see people like my work. I don't want to be like Vincent Can Gogh nor Edgar Allen Poe. I don't want to die thinking my life's work was a waste.