Lost on my own track

18 years in reflection, do you still remember what it was like at the start?
Did you begin happy? Did we all?
Are all babies heaven-sent?

While I know I'm as fortunate as a lot of people wish they'd be,
almost as the Cantonese saying goes, where 'a child was born with a golden key in its mouth',
I know I should be feeling somewhat fulfilled,
but in this world, there are always external factors to turn to.
My mentality is signaling some sort of emptiness generating from within,
the strain from being unoccupied from what I want to feel,
but completely consumed by worries that are generated from a variety of things.

And then I take my escape, my refuge, from drowning into a fantastical world,
books, music, fashion, occasionally sports, and even studying.
There must be more to life than relieving yourself, right?
I want to feel something real, between daddy and I,
yet the connection, what's remained of it is so vague.
I'm more tied to my step father than ever, which I treat him like my actual one anyway.
Is there something wrong with that?

I'm lost.