I'm facing the same problem living in London where, after university is done, you lose a major social group and then you get exposed to the reality that in this city people come and go all the time and every relationship becomes somewhat disposable, they never seem to last and you are already ready to let them go even before they get going.
Not unique to this place of course and I suppose I'd be lonely anywhere, but I can't help but think that the lack of intimate, constant relationships whether they are friends, colleagues or an LTR is seriously detrimental to ones mental health and escaping into books shouldn't be the final answer
I agree with somewhat in that there is a fine line between escapism into literature and actually using to help yourself.
My library brings a lot of comfort to me at times, as it is full of people like Kafka, Pessoa and Seneca, however, sometimes when I gaze at this collection I look at it as if a kid would look at at teddy bear - its a source of comfort and essentially an enabler that lets you hide from the challenges that you need to face
I also have a journal which I think of as my most "precious" possession even though it's full of little else but the story of a somewhat inert life - very much like Pessoa. I cling to this thing sometimes, but it's a bit irrational
I wouldn't give up reading of course, it is valuable in so many ways, but as you'll see when you read, a lot of authors who know a thing or two about depression, solitude and loneliness will also tell you to get off your ass and find the treasures in "the caves you fear to enter" (Josehp Cambpell)
Currently I am reading Pessoa and while I enjoy it immensely for the poetic display of emotions I wouldn't keep all this increased sensitivity to myself but strive to take it outward - into the world
Intimacy is scary and involves risk. Gotta learn to deal with it. And a part of reaching your potential is realising that you could have done it sooner
here are some Man pills to help you sack up