I’ve been feeling quite low lately. I’m guessing the depression isn’t easing. Today, I sat alone in the bedroom, just browsing my phone. I felt the wave come over me. I looked outside the window, and without my glasses, the cloudy sky merged with my beige curtains. In an instant, I thought of all that I’ve lost. My best friend being the latest addition to the list, and I couldn’t stop the pain that erupted from my eyes.

Later in the evening, I sought comfort from my partners. But one hasn’t given me a spontaneous hug in over a decade, perhaps longer. With the other, I’m always wondering if I’m doing enough in his eyes. I keep feeling like I’m falling short. But it’s not just with lovers.

It started with my dad. It continued with my mum, sister, grandparents, friends, colleagues, teachers… you name the relationship, and I feel like I’ve disappointed someone in some way or another. I can never measure up. In my own head, I create comparisons. In my own head, I admit defeat and failure. But then I constantly seek validation again, sometimes from people I don’t even know.

I wrote my sister a letter today, expressing how much I care for her and wish her the best. She wrote me a beautiful sentence, one she’s told me before. She said: 

“I have never lived in your shadow; I’ve always lived in your glow…”

It made me cry again at night because I felt so touched and wondered if I truly am how she sees me. There’s this boy I’ve known since he was 18, and he’s now 37. I call him the brother I never had. He visited me after two years, and when we met, he said, “Look how beautiful you are,” and hugged me. I burst into tears in his arms. I couldn’t stop crying for a few minutes.

I know depression is often linked to feelings of insecurity and the belief that I’m not good enough. These feelings are common in people struggling with depression, as it distorts the way you see yourself and your self-worth. Depression magnifies negative thoughts, creating a cycle where self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy grow stronger. I’ve been deeply affected by this.

Insecurity leads me to compare myself to others, to question my abilities. It makes me feel like I’m constantly falling short of expectations, whether they are my own or others’. Over time, these thoughts have contributed to and worsened my depression, making it harder to feel positive about any of my achievements.

I try very hard to remember that these feelings are often a symptom of depression rather than a reflection of reality. I wish I could go out there and seek support through therapy, but I’ve lost my trust in friends and loved ones. I desperately wish to break this cycle and gain perspective.

I started masturbating at a young age. It offered me temporary relief from stress and anxiety. I know now that masturbation triggers the release of endorphins, dopamine, and oxytocin — chemicals associated with pleasure, happiness, and relaxation. These “feel-good” hormones can briefly improve mood and reduce feelings of sadness or stress. For me, engaging in masturbation can serve as a distraction from overwhelming thoughts and emotions that accompany my depression. It always provides me a momentary break from negative self-reflection. Not to add the physical and mental relaxation that follows that reduces tension, making it easier to cope with the weight of depression and inadequacy for a short time.

For many years, I used to masturbate before I slept. Since my thoughts interfered with sleep, masturbation’s calming effects helped me fall asleep more easily. Most importantly, the activity fostered a positive connection with my body, something none of my lovers have never been able to achieve. It then alleviated more negative thoughts associated with my self-worth. But they didn’t stay away for long. 

Sometimes, I feel stuck. Not in my life—my life seems to work out fine—but in my mind. It prevents me from breaking routine. I keep feeling that people will be taken away from me. I know clinging to them won’t help either them or me because, after all, who wants to be with someone who doesn’t want them? But all the time I’ve spent offering trust and love to them makes me wonder if that’s all there is to life—endlessly giving of myself with nothing required in return.

The depression really wears me down, and I get addicted to a game, or binge-watching TV, or a writing spree to get rid of the weight of insecurity and the underlying darkness. It just waits for me, lurking, until I finish my distractions and pay it some attention. Because once I lock eyes with it, I’m lost. Then I can’t deal with people, and I can’t even look them in the eye. Is it really so hard for someone to love all of me, including my anxiety and tears? Or is this just my depression speaking? Even if it is so, can’t it be loved as a part of me like I love the whole of – you?