The reason depression is literally the worst is not because of the soul-crushing sadness or the wanting to kill yourself or the self harm or all the violent and extreme emotions that come with dealing with this particular mental handicap.
It’s the long and painful stretches of days of weeks of months where you’re not really depressed, but you kind of just exist. The time you spend sitting in bed aimlessly browsing the Internet instead of finishing that video game you thought was fun or going out with a friend to see a movie or getting up and doing your laundry. You exist, and it’s okay, but you’re not really sure why. You’re not doing anything productive when you have all the time in the world to be doing it. You feel like you’re missing out on life, but at the same time you feel that it doesn’t really matter. That’s the worst kind of depression.