👉 Living with loneliness and depression”
- konopkad648
- Sep 7
- 2 min read
Loneliness isn’t just something I deal with—it’s the only option I seem to have left. I don’t say that lightly. It’s not that I don’t want connection, love, or friendship. I do. But the truth is, every time I’ve tried, it feels like I’m more of a chore than a support system. Instead of being a partner, I end up being a burden.
No matter what type of woman I’ve dated, I’ve never been able to just be myself. I twist who I am, say things I don’t really mean, act in ways that don’t feel real—all in this desperate attempt to seem like someone better. Someone more stable. Someone less broken. But the truth always catches up. My depression is too overwhelming. It demands all of my focus just to keep myself together, and that leaves nothing left to offer another person.
Even friendship feels impossible. The responsibility of being a reliable friend—checking in, keeping in touch, showing up—feels like too much. I can barely live up to my own day-to-day survival, let alone give anyone else the consistency they deserve. I’ve surrendered to depression in many ways. It runs my life, and the thought of asking someone else to live around my good days and bad days feels painfully unfair. Who would want to sign up for that?
It’s not just relationships I fail at. I struggle with people in general. I live in my head 24/7, hiding from society because I don’t know how to exist in it anymore. I’ve been alone for so long that I feel almost barbaric. I don’t shower regularly. I don’t eat right. I don’t think before I do things—burping, spitting, eating too fast—it’s disgusting, and I know it. I feel gross, and I know that makes it even harder to imagine anyone ever wanting to be close to me.
And yet, in the middle of all that, I created something for myself. calmbydanny.com is my little corner of the world. It’s not a solution, it’s not a cure—but it’s mine. Running that store, even if it’s just quietly in the background of my life, gives me something to pour my energy into. When I’m working on it, I feel like I have a purpose, like I’m building something instead of just rotting away in isolation.
I don’t have a neat ending to this story. Loneliness is still here, depression is still here, and I’m still fighting—or maybe just surviving. But what I do know is that I’m still here. And for now, that has to be enough.
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