The speaker describes a familiar, lonely stretch: the moment when there's no one to talk to. The reason isn't that nobody is around. It's that everyone they might turn to is struggling too, so reaching out would feel like adding weight to people who are already carrying their own. That leaves the speaker with only themselves, and even that company is a kind of act, since they're "pretending to be fine."
The words "again" and "the phase" suggest this isn't new. The speaker has been here before and recognizes the pattern, which adds a tired, resigned feeling. The lowercase writing, the missing apostrophes in "im" and "cant," and the plain, chatty tone make it sound like a private thought typed out quickly, not something polished for an audience. That casualness makes the sadness feel more honest. The mood is quiet, weary, and isolated, with no dramatic outburst, just a flat acceptance of having to hold things together alone.