I'm sorry you're having to deal with this. I suffered depression years ago when I lost my beloved. I felt the same, worthless, void, empty, and guilty some time. My doctor advised me painting, drawing, writing, music, going on walks etc. I didn't try because everything was still meaningless for me. Most of the time I tried to sleep, but to sleep was always hard. I had to do something to kill time, and I chose reading. I felt lost in the words and detached from my own feelings when I read. And, the more I read, the more I came to know about myself. I came to accept that I got to live, even if it seemed more reasonable to give up. I spent time lying reading and thinking, and when I felt ready, I started to paint, to walk, to talk. They helped.
