Title says it all. I get home go to my room and can finally stop faking it. Most would say I’m really down or angry or spiraling or something along those lines. Im not, I am simply being myself. When I get to go home, I get to rid myself of the work day’s anxiety. I can let my eyes look dead and dry, I can feel the not giving a shit sink in slowly, I can relax and it feels great. I don’t need a tv, I just need a bed and my phone. Some food to keep me from starving and a dark space to avoid being irritated by bright lights. This must be depression, but it’s not that bad. It’s only bad when I have to work or see friends or talk to my family, it’s when I’m forced out of this self made cubicle that the stress and anxiety over takes my mind. At least here my thoughts are silent, at least here I want to live and dream.