What to do when you don't know what to do?

Hey all,

I don't know who to talk to or really, what to say. I've been depressed for years. Mostly it manifests as anger and lethargy, but in January, I decided I couldn't live like that anymore. Last summer, my dog was terminally ill and when I made the choice to end his suffering, it pretty much shattered me. On top of that, I hate my job and have since I took the position, but I can't find other work. I was on the verge if going to bed and never getting up again when I decided to go to the doctor. He prescribed Wellbutrin, largely because although depressed and anxiety-riddled, I'm serious about my physical health. I lost 70lbs by diet and exercise. Except for one pretty bad episode (where I was so angry, I broke a ceramic bowl over my head) in February, I felt like things were turning around. He did lower my dosage because I was kind of twitchy and way too energetic. I liked the lower dosage and I was hoping to stay on it...well, forever, because off of it, I was destroying my life by being angry and avoiding parts of my job, and just spiraling down.

Cut to April. In which my temper is way better and I'm clearly less frustrated with work and life in general and I'm not fighting with my husband all the time. Except...things got stale. I didn't want to do anything. Not like I'm not going to work or I'm not going shopping or I'm not walking anymore. Just like I don't want to go on trips (we used to travel quite a bit), and I stopped writing. I'm a best-selling author. I've wanted to write since I was a kid. Suddenly, I'm just done with it. I went so far as to pull down most of my books from Amazon. Pulled my blog, my Twitter, my FB author page. Erased my Amazon author bio. Basically, I killed my author personality. It's not writer's block. I just don't care about any past or future work I've done. I bought flowers for my garden this year, but didn't feel like devoting time to them. I haven't let them die, and I have been taking care of them to the point I'm glad I am doing it, but it was touch and go for a while. We also used to go to a lot of movies, but suddenly, I didn't care about any of them. Or about TV or books or anything I used to consider a hobby.

When it was time for my check-in with the doc, I told him all this. So he said cut the prescription again and said maybe I won't even need it in a couple of months, because lack of interest in life really isn't much of a life. When someone persuades me to do fun things, I do have fun. I'm not mopey and all gray skies. I still laugh and enjoy things, it just takes some convincing for me to want to do some of it.

I'm almost two weeks into the lower dosage but, I'm still not writing (I tried, I really did, but I just don't feel it), but I felt like going to see a couple of movies. We went to a casino and had fun. We're going to another one later this month because we have free buffet coupons. I'm good with getting out of the house. I do have a trip coming up next month that I'm dreading, though. It's the very last promo trip I scheduled to sell books. Last year it was a blast. Now I want to give the books away for free just so I don't have to deal with them anymore. I don't know how I could give up 10 years of doing something I loved so easily. I don't really know if it's the Wellbutrin blunting it or if I've changed, but I worry about it, not because I'm actually worried about it, but because other people think I should be worried.

All I know is, on this low dosage, I'm irritable again. I had a really bad episode last weekend when someone close to me called something we were planning to do stupid (thr one thing I was truly looking forward to!) and I hit myself a few times because if that was stupid, then I must be stupid too. At the time, I was so hurt by her words, I couldn't stand it. Looking back, I know it was a bad idea. My husband was super ticked at me, just like he always is, when he found out I hurt myself. The last few days, if I so much as sign, he wants to know what's wrong.

I don't know what to do anymore. If I stay on a low dosage, I'm just going to turn into the hateful, useless person I was. I know shes creeping back in. But if I ask to go back on the higher one, everyone will just be mad at me for being boring. I literally had no ambition and no drive, although I could accomplish tasks I knew I needed to do. My poor husband actually believed I didn't want to do anything with him, when in reality, I just didn't want to do anything. I was happier though, but does that count for anything?