I have mentioned before that I understand the tortured artist thing. How when you are the worst, your art is the best. My mom said something to me today: "Why haven't you been making more birds?" And I answered something vague about not having time or they being hard.
But the real answer is is that I've been happy lately. I've been doing things and seeing people. I've been socializing. I haven't had the time nor the want to sit around knitting. But now that I've fallen into my hole, it sounds like a grand thing to do. I feel worthless so I need to make something to convince myself (even for a fleeting second) that I am not.
Understanding is not easy. Dealing with it is not easy. Trying not to freak you child or new friends out is not easy. Nothing about depression is easy.