The sham I call my life

All my life, I've heard depression this, and depression that, and the truth is, I don't even believe in "depression". Sure, I know people are sad. Look around this world! If you weren't sad, there would be something really wrong with you. But the whole notion of being sad as being a disease is insane. Or so I thought.
I'm 30, and have a great life. I'm in college full time, have three smart kids, a good husband, a home that is maybe a little small, and maybe not a house but a doublewide trailer, but it is in good shape and I have a nice yard. We have 3 cars that run, they are all paid for. My life is good.
But I can't get happy. I'm overweight, but not outrageously so. I have lots of interests, but I just don't want to do anything. I don't want to get up in the morning. I don't want to spend time with my kids. I certainly don't want to go to church. I don't want to cook food. I don't want to exercise. Heck, I don't even want to eat. I just want to have some serious quiet time, maybe a month or so, where I don't have to shower, get dressed, or even get out of bed if I want. I don't want to go visiting teaching, or go to enrichment activities, or do sharing time in primary, or listen to how the kids did in school or how Garry did at work. I don't want to clean anything, I don't want to wash a dish. I want to write and listen to music and talk to myself, out loud. I want to cry on someone's shoulder, but it has to be someone who actually cares, and I just don't feel like I have anyone like that in my life.
My friends at church and in my daily life don't have any idea of who and what I am inside me. None of them see the frustration I feel at all my failures. I've tried to tell some of them how insignificant I feel or how inadequate I am, and they laugh it off, saying, "oh, you do great with the kids," or "this is a fun activity you planned," or "oh please. You are so good at this." Like what I am feeling, or what I believe is just silly. It means nothing. I'm wrong about myself. I feel like screaming, "I CAN'T DO THIS! CAN'T YOU SEE??"
These people don't see how vulnerable I am, how weak I am. How self-conscious I am. They don't have a clue. I don't have any real friends who know that I wake up every day wishing I didn't have to do ANYTHING, including actually stay awake. There is not one person out there that knows I cry myself to sleep almost every single night. None of them see the disgust in my heart when I look at myself in the mirror or think of all the things I have totally screwed up.
My husband doesn't believe in medication for this type of thing, and so whether I am depressed or just a lazy loser, I am what I am without any help or reprieve.
I don't really want anyone to know because I already feel like people look down on me for all the things I am not. I don't need them to see all the bad things I am, on top of all the good things I'm not! So I suffer in silence, put on a happy face, and start each day as part of an ongoing sham I call my life.