I know how you feel. For me it started when I started to stress out at work which affected my sleep, which affected the stress I felt, which affected my sleep. By the time I decided to see my GP I had gone 3 weeks without sleep and had lost 30 lbs because I was so stressed I couldn't eat.

At my appointment we talked about what was going on and she asked THE question. "Do you think you are depressed?" I said "no", thinking to myself, "oh, hell no!!!". We talked some more and she gave me a script for Ambien. That first night I slept 4 hours. The next day I thought to myself "OK, I've got this figured out." That night, nothing and the night after that, nothing and the night after that, nothing and ...

CRAP, what was going on? I felt like sh**, I felt I was imploding. My mind went back to THAT question, the one my GP asked, "could I be depressed?". No, I was strong, I was confident, I knew what I wanted and how to get it. I wasn't THAT word. Things would turn around; they had to.

But things continued to go down hill. I still wasn't sleeping or eating and work was becoming more stressful. So, I decided I could talk to someone to help me get through this "stressful" period and I started calling therapist. I found one that I really like and I felt I had connected with. I set up an appointment. The day of my appointment I started to doubt my need for help. I had never asked for help before, did I really need it now? I decided to go, knowing I didn't need to make another appointment.

So, I met this therapist and told her what I thought was wrong and how its was affecting my sleep, eating and my stress at work. After I finished, she asked me several questions. After I finish answering she gave me her diagnosies - "you have severe major depression and general anxiety disorder". What? What? Did I just hear her say I have depression? I challenged her diagnosies. She explained there are 10 symptoms of depression, of which you only need 5 to have this diagnosis, and you have 9 of them. Actually, I had all 10; I didn't want to tell her my "stress" was becoming so intense I was actively thinking of suicide. Then she gave me the news I needed to be on anti-depressants. I was not a happy camper when I left that appointment. I got a diagnosis I didn't want, I had to start medication I didn't want to take and I had an appointment for the next week.

So, I begrudgingly took my anti-depressant and spent several appointments with my T trying to convince me I was in fact depressed and my arguing I couldn't be. I was strong. These things didn't happen to me.

After a lot of back and forth, I finally admitted to myself - I a m d e p r e s s e d! - I admitted to myself that I did feel helpless and hopeless, alone and lonely, sad, fearful and everything else on her list. And based on my family's history, I had inherited this illness.

But while I admitted this to myself I was not going to tell anyone. I didn't want them to look at me differently or treat me differently. I eventually told my siblings who were supportive, but a few months later, 2 of my siblings started questioning why I wasn't better, why was I still in therapy, why was I still taking medications? My mind being in the state it was, this was not a good thing to hear. I started questioning myself again. My T and I spent a few more weeks discussing this and again I accepted it.

I continued to struggle, trying different medications and adding sessions to my already once a week schedule. Eventually I had to stop working and I went on disability. I was hospitalized for self-harming behavior and being suicidal with a plan. Eventually I stopped caring who knew. That's when I realized out how much I was loved and how much I loved. But even with my friends and family knowing, I still struggled with asking for help and I still do.

Now, I see my tdoc and pdoc each once a week and taking my meds.

I know it's hard, but try to dig deep down and find that courage you have to see your doctor. From what you describe, it sounds like it could be depression and there is help out there for you. As I discovered by not admitting I needed help, you are only prolonging your suffering.

And know, there are many of us just like you and feel what you are feeling. We can help you.