Feeling Lost: My Struggle with Existential Crisis

The familiar feeling of existential crisis are more and more agitating to me recently. I don't know how long exactly it's been bugging me as of late, but even when I was on a long weekend getaway with my husband and my dog (gorgeous surroundings, generally pleasant and relaxing) I found myself feeling agitated by my own thoughts... "is this supposed to be enough?" VERY quick background, as this post isn't specifically geared toward my mental health status/relevant diagnoses - I began to feel troubled by the feeling of general pointlessness of my own/(maybe everyone's?) life when I was in my early teens. I got into drugs and developed a taste for trouble/"intensity"/recklessness by 15 and was addicted to drugs and alcohol (actively) until I was 22 when I began to start to climb my way out of destructive habits. My drug of choice was oxymorphone but I was a girl who would do pretty much anything offered/available to me (I even roofied myself once at a concert by some random work who asked me if I wanted ketamine, immediately said yes and blacked out for 2 hours and was kicked out of the venue for being passed out at a table - that was not my first/last time on ketamine not was it my first or last time being kicked out from a venue, just throwing this out as an example of my general vibe at the time.) Anyways... eventually got clean, devoted myself to psychiatric treatment for my bipolar 2 disorder, got super into exploring spirituality in the search to find a "point" to why this all mattered anyway. I lived in the glow of the attitude that I had it all figured out for several years. Well, that glow has been dissipating slowly over time and now, I am still sober, I'm stable, I went back to school and have a career, I live a practical life with my very practical husband and I have avoided anything overtly stimulating to that "seeking" part of my psyche for some time now as I find it a really fucking tired and boring aspect of my (and other's) personality. So now I'm just back to... "what's the point?" Previous to transformation from miserable/manic junkie to logical/practical/know it all, I felt most ALIVE chasing new opportunities to get incredibly fucked up, do wild/reckless things, and have a new life story to add to my collection of half-formed memories/fantasize about and ponder how I survived when I coulda/woulda/shoulda died... now my lifestyle is so far separate from that and I STILL find myself fantasizing about 2014 as "the best year of my life" when I was manic af, impulsive beyond remorse, and constantly barreling toward the next adventure which i maybe/maybe not survive - but the story would sure as hell be epic!