It's 3:34am (by my phone's reckoning) and once again I'm lying in bed with nothing else to do but think. And, as I'm sure a lot of you know, thinking is a dangerous thing to overdo when you're depressed. A little background; I'm 20, diagnosed with depression and OCD about 4 years ago. The OCD has pretty much taken a backseat with the introduction of medication but the depression is near constant. I had to leave university half way though my first year because of it and, a few weeks later, lost my job. I used to be a pleasant, enthusiastic, intelligent, creative and generally normal person. My future was bright and my life was perfect. Now? Everything is tainted with an overwhelming feeling of sheer futility. I see very little point to getting out of bed in the morning and yet, at night, I'm terrified of getting into it because I know it's precursor to yet another day. I feel like I have missed what were supposed to be 'the best years of my life" and I feel I've been robbed of the chance of a decent future. Not to mention how bitter, twisted and empty I can feel myself becoming with each passing day. I fail to see the point in anything really. And I'm really not quite thrilled about having to live a life that's so hollow and torturous. I'm rambling as usual. What do I do?