Knowing why doesn't help

"Depression is one of the worst forms of suffering because of the immense feelings of shame, worthlessness, hopelessness and demoralization. Depression can seem worse than terminal cancer, because most cancer patients feel loved and they have hope and self-esteem. Many depressed patients… yearned for death and prayed every night that they would get cancer, so they could die in dignity without having to commit suicide." (Dr. Burns, "Feeling Good")

Today it doesn't even feel like depression. It feels like just knowing what a worthless human being I am. It is my fault. I'm spoiled and selfish. If I wasn't then I would be happy, I would be thankful for everything I have. But I'm not thankful. I don't care. It's not enough for me. I want more, or I want none of it. And I don't want to have to try hard. If my tiniest efforts aren't enough than forget it. I will lay here until someone forces me to move. Then I will whine and scream like a spoiled, selfish baby and refuse to understand why I need to work in any shape or form. If it won't make me happy, there is no point and I just refuse. I don't care about anyone else anymore. My mother yells, asks what I am doing with myself, am I quitting school. I tell her I don't know and she says I better figure it out. But I don't feel like I should have to. I only wonder to myself whether I could make myself stab her, but decide it wouldn't matter because that wouldn't make my life any easier, and that is the only thing I am concerned about. I want to sleep as much as possible. I want to move and think and breath as little as possible. I keep getting angry at my body for being unable to sleep for longer. I kept waking up every hour last night (this morning). Why am I writing this? I don't want to talk to anyone. Or, I want to get all this stuff out, but not have to deal with listening to a response. I don't want to answer questions, I don't want to discuss things. The only thing I want is for someone to show me how to escape.