I'm doing a little bit better. I still want to cut myself. I'm still intensely sad and hurt and invalidated. But my friend is here instead of my boyfriend and that helps. She understands depression. She empathizes with me. She knows what it's like to be so far down you can't even see the stars.

I have my dog at my feet, my friend next to me, and food in my stomach. That's a lot more than I had 12 hours ago. I had to take some gravol to fall asleep but it's better to be a bit groggy tomorrow than up all night crying.

I saw my old counsellor at the hospital tonight. They wouldn't admit me because they had no available beds. That's okay. Being here with my friend is better. I'm still feeling that elephant-on-your-chest anxiety and the deep urge to hurt myself, but I feel more confident now that I won't hurt myself.

I think I really needed a break from him. He wasn't helping. He asked how long my depression would last. Days? Weeks? He told me he was annoyed that I can't control my emotions. Well, I've got news for him. This is what depression looks like. This is what it does to you.

I still feel like he's more important to me than I am to him. Our birthday is the same day. August 6. I got him a super cool, thoughtful gift. He got me nothing. I literally had to tell him, "Go buy me this $4 book." I'm sick and tired of feeling like I don't matter. And I'm going to tell him that in the morning when he gets home.

Thank you all for caring. It means a lot.