I turned 19 last week, and it came like a slap in the face.

I suddenly realized, I'm not a kid anymore, and it depresses me because I wasted my childhood trying to act more grown up then I was. I denied myself the things I really enjoyed as a kid in the pursuit of perfection and pleasing others. Always doing chores, I wouldn't play games with my siblings, no matter how badly I wanted too. Barely socialized with friends even though I was miserable when I was alone. Now I have none. Life was about homework, chores, stressing about looks, fearing what others thought of me, putting myself down, hiding my eating disorder and self-harm, blaming myself for my mother abandoning me when I was 11, fearing I may lose my wonderful stepmother if I wasn't careful, and planning for the future that I hoped would be better then my past.

I once had dreams of happiness. Now all I see for my future is stress, work, bills, and physical deterioration. Life will go fast, but somehow drag out during the worst of times.

Is it too late? Is the best years of my life really over? I feel so hopeless. What's the point of being able to survive into your 100s if you're not really living?