Depressed?

I'm really not doing alright. This time I will be the first to say it. It's gettig hard to keep everythig inside. Blogs were a good invention. This seems to be the only outlet I have, at least the only one that I care to use. It's easier to get my thoughts out on here rather than actually talking to someone. And this way, if you don't care then I don't have to know.
The way I feel is the way that I felt at the beginning of last year, before I was put on the anti-depressants. That's not a good thing. My mind feels all screwed up. At first I was thinking that it was just a post robbery reaction but the past couple days I have realized that it's more than that. I feel tired all of the time. I will sleep for 12 hours one night and once I wake up I don't have the energy to do anything. Another night I will sleep for 5 hours and have even less energy and end up falling asleep at random times. I don't have energy to do anything. Driving to work and my favorite song comes on, I don't even have the energy to sing along with it. I have to struggle to make myself sing. It never used to be that way. I used to be able to turn the music up, sing as loud as I could and foget everything. It made me feel better. I don't even feel any emotions anymore. A lot of the time I hide that, smiling when I think it is needed, or laughing when I think it's appropriate, but inside my mind is blank. My body is just going along with the motions while my mind just lags behind. Even Seinfeld barely elicits more than just a chuckle out of me. I will say that something makes me happy, or that I'm excited about something because I know that's how I should be feeling. That doesn't mean that it is really how I feel. I don't even have an appetite. I will eat because I know it's what I should be doing. It's noon so I make myself some food because it's what is expected. I will sit down with my family and have supper because it's what they expect me to do. I feel like I am just faking my way through life. I go out and paste a smile on my face when all I want to do is curl up in my bed and be alone and cry. Or maybe not even cry. Just to be alone and not have to fake anything. Last night I just sat on my floor, leaning against my bed for almost an hour. Not thinking about anything, not worrying about anything, just being. I can't even really say anything to my parents about this. They already worry about me. I believe that I should be back on the pills but I can't tell them that. If I do then they will be against me getting my own place in the city. They already are uneasy about me doing that because they don't know if I should live alone because they say I'm already alone to much, might not be healthy for me. And they believe if I am on the pills then I can't handle being alone. I think it would help me though. I already forget too often that I am an adult. I need my indepedence. I need to grow up and I believe the only way to do that is to be on my own. What would be better for me though? Is it more beneficial for me to be on the pills or to have my own place? It can't go both ways. To many concerns with the side effects of the pills, how they can make me worse. But then I have been worse before, without anyone knowing, and I'm still alive. So I know that I can get through this on my own. It would be nice to not have to though. And I have been on them before and they did't make anything worse. So why would they this time? Now I just feel like I'm rambling so much. It always gets this way. So many things going on in my head, it's so hard to sort them out. I don't even know if any of this makes any sense. After I went off the pills last time I had decided I would change the way I lived my life. Doing things that I felt like doing, not letting anything hold me back, eating better, exercising regularly, doing things that are supposed to help produce saratonin. I have been sucking at that. Haven't exercised for a couple weeks now. Been eating lots of junk food. Been wanting to do some things but just haven't had the guts to. I think a big part of that is that I've given up. Not in a 'I've given up on life' kind of way, but in a way that I just don't see the point anymore. I would much rather sit around at home, stay in my flannel pj pants and sweatshirt than actually go out and face the world. It's not that I think the world is all that bad. In fact, I do like it out there, it intrigues me, it's just that it's exhausting out there, faking that smile all the time. I'm just so sick of it all. Even at home though it's not all that easy. I have to fake it here to. Not to the extreme that I do out in public but if I'm not happy they just chalk it up to me being grumpy or something. I'm not grumpy. I'm just miserable. Why don't they see the difference? I know, because it's easier not to. My mom has said before that she doesn't want me to be back on the pills, after I was having problems from the robbery she said that. They don't want to see that maybe it's needed. Maybe it would help me. To bad I can't tell them that. Even just thinking about it is making the tears start to well up. I cry too easily. That's my one real emotion that I feel. Sadness. You will never see me cry, but I do a lot. At my house, in a store when I am shopping, in my car. Never in front of any of you though. I wont let that happen. It's a sign of weakness. I don't want to be weak. Ugh, I hate this.