Walking Depression

My depression comes and goes in waves. Sometimes it lasts for three days, sometimes it lasts for three months. It can become severe and I spend days laying in bed. Sometimes I end up at the hospital. But sometimes I have what I call "walking depression". It's the kind of depression that can be concealed easily. I feel like I'm dying inside but I'm still able to run errands, socialize and pretend like I'm in a good mood.
It's completely exhausting. I crave a nap halfway through the day because I have been demanding so much out of myself. Even though I can be productive doesn't mean I want to. I would rather sit in sweat pants on the couch. Nothing feels genuine, the world is faded and grey.
It can go undetected, even by the person that has it. Me, the queen of depression, and I just realized that I have been depressed for about nine months. I knew something was off, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I knew I wasn't depressed because I wasn't suicidal or laying in bed, but in reality, I am depressed. I have been napping every afternoon and sleeping for 8-10 hours a night. I have what is called "Anhedonia" which is the inability to be satisfied/feel pleasure. So no activities satisfy me, no books, tv shows, everything. I could find a hundred dollars on the ground and still feel hum drum. It's like being hungry but never being able to feel full. So I've grown to hate free time. I've bawled my eyes out when I have a block of time with no plans and no projects to work on. I am terrified of the days when the house is already clean and there is no work to do. I have free time with nothing to satisfy me. I'll try reading, gardening, watching a movie. The only thing that quenches my thirst is writing, and that's only occasionally. And it's difficult to do with a hyper four year old bouncing around.
But I've realized I'm depressed, and I have been for a while. This gives me some relief because I know now that my excruciating boredom is a result of depression, not because I suck at life.