This sounds oddly familiar. I don't react in exactly the same way, but I've been through periods of depression where it was a major accomplishment to do anything at all. I still have trouble being patient with myself when there are ten thousand things I want to do and the most I can manage is to read or to sit at a computer and play a simple game like MineSweeper. I accuse myself of being lazy at such times, but the prospect of doing anything more useful looms before me like the prospect of cliff-climbing with an elephant strapped to my back.