I Failed My Teenage Self
July 29, 2026
Ten years ago, it was the summer before my senior year of high school and I was a month shy of turning seventeen. I was depressed and anxious much of the time throughout my middle and high school years, so I never gave much energy to thinking about my future. It was overwhelming for me to plan out the week ahead, let alone the next five to ten years of my life. On my better days, I found myself thinking that everything would work itself out eventually. Maybe I’ll go to college, get a decent job, and buy a house all before turning twenty-seven. On days when life felt more stressful and impossible, however, I thought I’d likely kill myself before I even turned twenty.
Here I am now, a month shy of twenty-seven, and my teenage self’s worst fear came true instead: I failed at both of these imagined futures and landed somewhere in the middle.
As a teen, I thought that my mental illnesses would either end me or somehow be cured with the right medication or therapy. I dared not imagine a world where the suffering would continue for years on end. This has been the reality of my teens and twenties though, and I imagine it will continue to be a struggle in some aspect for the entirety of my life. There have been many times in the past ten years where I’ve wanted to die, and a handful of times where I have been hospitalized for these thoughts and related actions. In this moment at least, I’m grateful that I’m still alive.
Living with chronic depression and anxiety has impacted nearly every aspect of my life. I’m still alive, yes, but without a college degree, without a good job, and without the money to even rent an apartment. In many ways, I think my teenage self would see me as a failure. Sometimes, I believe it too.
At the same time, I’m trying to be proud of myself for navigating my mental instability in the ways that I have. I’ve learned to ask for help and support from my loved ones and mental health professionals when I need it, and I’m doing my best to take care of myself. I’m also trying to have more grace with myself by remembering that life isn’t a checklist of what to do by when, but rather an individual journey without set agendas. This can be difficult to fully digest when I see people around me hit certain milestones and meet these standards. I’m doing my best to stay off of social media so I’m less likely to compare my life to others’, but I admit that reshaping my thinking in such a way is difficult.
My life isn’t perfect by any means, but I’m doing my best with what I have. Teenage me would be disappointed at first, but perhaps I would grab them by their hand and show them all that I’ve accomplished and all that I’m grateful for. I’d tell them how I feel more comfortable in my skin than I ever had before. I’d tell them that while mental illness has still been difficult to navigate, I have more knowledge on how to prevent severe episodes and what to do when they occur. I’d introduce them to my beautiful girlfriend of two and a half years who I get to share a life with.
“I know it isn’t at all what you expected,” I’d tell them, “But this life is worth living too.”
