Been there, done that. There were days where it was all I could do to crawl out of bed and pour myself a glass of milk before visiting the bathroom and stumbling back into bed. It's amazing. The things we used to get up and do without a single thought become an exhausting chore when we are depressed.

I allowed the problem to go on for almost a year before I came to my senses and realized that I wasn't going to get better without some help. I saw a doctor who wrote me a prescription for an anti-depressant, then referred me to a counselor who referred me to a psychiatrist who increased my medication.

The medication was not a magic pill that made me better. In fact, I think it's going to be increased again. But at least I'm starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel.