I don't know what I should to do

I don't know what's going on. I'm about to turn 18 soon, and I feel like I haven't achieved anything meaningful in my life. I can't even remember a single happy moment I've truly lived. My father is in his 60s, and I have no real memories with him—I don’t even remember the last time we sat and talked together.

I've gone through two existential crises. The first was when I was around 13 or 14. I used to ask myself: What’s the meaning of everything? What’s the point of anything? My heartbeat felt irregular all the time. I even lost my closest friend during that time because I was constantly distracted, anxious, and isolated. I stopped playing my favorite sport—football. I was kicked out of the team I played with because I was always absent-minded. I haven't played football since, and I don’t even remember how I got out of that nightmare.

Years passed, and when I was around 16 or 17, summer vacation came. I had just graduated and was the top student in my school, but no one cared. No one acknowledged it. Everyone I knew was going out every day, trying new things, traveling, while I couldn't do anything because I had no money.

I'm passionate about history and geography and I love the idea of travel, even though I’ve never traveled. I used to watch travel videos on YouTube and escape into daydreams. But then, suddenly and for no clear reason, I lost all interest in traveling. I felt empty. Suddenly, nihilistic and existential thoughts started pouring in nonstop, to the point that I felt like my head would explode.

I stopped eating completely because it became too hard. I spent all my time on the internet looking for answers to my questions. My life stopped entirely—my dreams, my goals, everything disappeared. I lost all my friends and ended up with no one. I lost myself—literally.

This went on for about 9 months, until I somewhat came to terms with my fate. Even now, those thoughts still circle in my head, but I try not to engage with them out of fear that I’ll fall back into that same dark place. Every time I remember those days, I cry involuntarily—like what’s happening right now.

I don’t have suicidal thoughts because I suffer from a deep fear of death. And by the way, I don't speak English, so I used translation to write this post. I know my writing might be a bit unorganized, but this is the first time I've written out some of my feelings.