I don't know if I'm depressed.

I am happy, with people.
With company

But once I'm alone, on my bed at night
It seems like I'm the loneliest person ever
I started to think awful things
I cry myself to sleep

Next day
While in the morning,
I always think of it as a fresh start
Things happen
Fun and sad

Then at night
Same as always
Sadness and darkness is my cuddle buddy

Then it repeats
Same as always
Same old cycle
Same life.