One of the worst issues regarding depression, is that one tends to take all the wrong decisions during it. So that even if you manage to climb your way out of that dark hole called depression, you will still find yourself face to face with consequences of bad decisions you had made. But hey, at this stage you are capable of doing something about that.

In my case, I am still trying to do something about what my years of depression left me with, but I’m failing due to the nature of the person that I have always been. During my depression, I lost every single friend I had. That means every person that I would talk to and enjoy doing that, and every person that I could simply have a walk with on my way back from university, or just a walk in general.

I am not depressed anymore. There are things that I enjoy doing, and I feel the satisfaction that I have longed for, in regards to the way my life is going, but I’m sharing the fact that I am doing better now, as well as share my new life in general with nobody but myself. I have spent the last 2 years of my life on my own, with no one to consider a friend. I laugh on my own, I succeed on my own, and I go out for fun on my own, and after 2 years I can say that I am reaching my limit. The more things I find out that I enjoy doing, the more I am reminded of my loneliness. I find myself wishing that there could be someone who I would share my love for games with for example, and a group that I would play together with.

Now what is stopping me from making friends, and looking for what I am missing? The fact that I am as introverted as they come. Easily socially awkward, and I don’t feel comfortable around new people, which they seem to notice, and mistake that for a hint to leave me alone.

At the same time I have my pride to battle. Even if I did manage to get to know someone, and hold 1, 2, or even 5 conversations with them, I refuse to appear needy, and I always fear that the person I want to be friends with, doesn’t feel the same about me, and thus I end up never initiating any type contact with them, because I fear that I would bother them.

This loneliness strikes me from time to time, and when it does I feel sad. I am reminded of my old friends, and how I lost them. I am reminded of my depression and the person I had become during those times, which makes me appreciate the fact that I am over it, but deep inside lies a wound that is aching.

I won’t bleed through that wound.