I hate this

Depression is a weird little thing.
I’ve been carefully avoiding L.’s music for the past weeks. Yesterday I didn’t. I let chance do her thing, put the anxiety playlist on shuffle and waited for his piano, for his voice, to warm me up. It didn’t work how I wanted it to, it wasn’t warm. It was distant and nostalgic and weird and I don’t know.
I hate this. I hate this a lot.
I miss him. I miss his touch. I miss my friend. I miss his kisses. I miss the music. I miss the muses that were with us.
Not that they came for a good reason, it was suffering muses, but nonetheless, they were inspiring.
Depression is a weird thing.
I feel empty inside.
Yesterday I had my ex’s hoodie on. It comforts me. It’s warm and big and soft and I feel like I can hide in it and disappear.
I wish I could disappear for real. I wish for death.
I’m feeling kinda terrible lately, uh.
Things aren’t going well. Or at least not as well as I thought they were going.
I’m sad and angry all the time. I get angry at small things, but I’m starting to think maybe they’re not that small if I feel this way.
I’m feeling “too much”. Yet again.
The one thing I didn’t want to feel like anymore.
I feel like I’m too much and I feel insecure.
I hate everything about the situation I’m in.
I hate that J. is dismissing me while saying he doesn’t want to.
I hate that I’m still not saying much about how it makes me feel.
I hate that talking with L. is feeling better than ever.
I’m just not feeling safe with anyone.
Except. Except the one person I shouldn’t be feeling anything with. And the reason I feel safe with him is because there’s no big feelings involved. No prospect. No pressure. Just comfort friends.
And I hate that too. Because I want to feel that comfort with someone I have a relationship with. I want to feel safe with my partner. But, in the way that matters to me now, I don’t have one.
The sun is out today. I’m not enjoying it one bit. I want to die today too.
I want to rip away at my skin with my nails.

I started reading the catcher in the rye again. That makes me feel understood. Not in a good way? But it’s a comfort I’m needing.