This depression has crept in and swept away even the easiest of answers. The sun shines on a spring day and instead of feeling awoken and refreshed, I feel the deepest of bitter chills reach my bones. In an effort to combat it, I went outside with M and cleared the garden area. The sun warmed us and sweat formed over my skin, but still I felt like a visitor in my own life. Like the garden would never be built or bear fruits or vegetables and we will never eat them, even though I bought the wood for the raised beds today. Every fiber of my being wants to go inside and curl into a ball and disappear into a sleep. Coming inside does nothing for me either, for the house is an appalling mess and I will clean it and it will be messed again and I will clean it and on and on and nothing seems quite as depressing as that.
I don’t even know how to deal with the most trivial of problems. M refusing to get into her seat in the car. I just stand there. We stay there, in a stand off, for interminable minutes. She whines for juice, she shouts “mom! mom! mom!” and it feels like loud, impossible noise coming at me from all angles. The mess of the house feels like blaring sound, the light of the sun, the clambering of a three-year-old all over my body. This must be what it’s like to to have a sensory processing disorder. It feels like being smothered by just every day things.
Naturally, I am completely aware in my cognitive mind that I probably need good food, exercise, sleep, and self-care to get myself out of this depression. But deep in my soul, I feel a close proximity to a rip so deeply painful as to be primal: the throes of a broken heart, except without the appropriate circumstances. I cannot even daydream of traveling to help myself, I find it hard to summon the passion for anything. Instead I work methodically, slowly, and dully through my To Do list. If nothing else, I will get the tiniest bit of satisfaction from crossing an item off the list.
Time will bring the forgetting, and numb the pain. Time will ease the burden and lift the weight. Of course, I said that ten years ago as well.
Mother of All Things 
I’m sorry you are deep in this right now. Thinking of you.
Depression descends when you least expect it. You’ve got a lot going on and a lot of good things coming your way. I wonder if a part of you has some fear of what’s to come and is keeping you right here, in this weird space, as some sort of protective mechanism.
I wish I could convey in a simple comment how deeply and personally I understand what you’re saying, if not necessarily exactly how you feel. The worst of it began right after my grandmother died, but I still don’t feel like that was what it was about or based on… Maybe it was just the shove off the cliff I did not need? Idk. I remember being surprised that doing the “right” things didn’t help. I’m sorry you’re in this place, and I hope you find solace. Thinking of you.
I’ve lived with depression all my life so I know what it’s like to be in the darkest moments. It’s probably hard to believe right now but it does get better. Hang in there š
Are you getting help? I’ve struggled with severe depression for years, and I know that sometimes it is almost impossible to do what you need to do to feel better on your own. Sometimes counseling is needed, sometimes medication. I’ve used both at different times in my life, either separately or in combination, and they helped me find happiness again.