the only way I keep it together now is out of embarrassment if my family ever finds out I'm depressed

soon I'll be back alone in some random apartment and I'm not going to be able to get up in the mornings, I'm not going to be able to eat well, I'm not going to be able to make any friends, I'm just probably not going to last very long before I end up making the trip. I know in my head that I don't actually want to but I don't really feel it anymore, it's just becoming something I tell myself and I can't really remember what's there to stop me.

nothing gets better for me. nothing is even wrong in the first place, but there's a significant lack of things that are right. I live my life like I'm always about to be happy, just give it one more day, tomorrow I'll be free. occasionally I get a few good months, then promptly realize that the "good" was really just me being too numb and absent minded to feel like myself.

the worst part is knowing that this isn't the worst it will get. there's always a darker moment ahead of me.