The Magicians by Lev Grossman.
I think it helps that I was a similar age to the main characters when I read it, and that I was a “gifted” kid who had high expectations placed on me from early childhood. Also I’m prone to existential crises.
I really resonated with how Quentin was so overjoyed to find out that magic is real, like his childhood dreams have come true, but then as the series goes on, he learns that magic is just another set of skills that you have to work really hard at to accomplish anything meaningful. I loved the point in the series when they all graduate from Brakebills, and they are sort of aimless.
It just really clicked for me that no matter what skills and talents you are born with or what advantages you have in life, no one is going to decide for you what to do with it, and you still need to put in the work to accomplish amazing things.
Sylvia Plath. My understanding is that the Bell Jar is semi-autobiographical. The deep depression she experienced is something most of us will never know. She came back from it, wrote an incredible novel, and then still succumbed to depression, killing herself in what sounds like an absolutely agonizing way to go.