It feels like there's no escape from this horrible anhedonia.

There's really no point to my life. All I do is sit in bed all day. I try to get myself interested in things, but nothing holds my attention. Not TV, movies, books, blogs, knitting, writing...none of the things that used to interest me.

I sleep as much as I can, but eventually I still have to wake up, and I'm back in this bleak, dull world where I have no purpose or meaning.

Nothing helps. I'm not immediately suicidal, but I spend a LOT of time thinking about killing myself because it seems like the only way to escape. I hate this so much.