This is veering off-topic so apologies. I tried to match my experience with the feelings described by the author in the article, but yes, you're right, depression can be much more than that. Now I say can because I visualise depression as a spiral, not necessarily consistent throughout, but definitely like a bottomless well. The feeling of being a "pressure cooker" is a level of depression, but I'm tempted to say that it's not the worst. The worst, and the most dangerous, I felt was self-transparency, where I lost all sense of what makes "me" and the world feels like a ghost and passes straight through. It was much more than numbness, it was emptiness that felt more white than black, yet I remember tears that won't stop welling, of shaking and shivering and lots of switching offs, usually to actual sleep. This was different to melancholy though, this was really the point when you don't consider but believe that you're absolutely and weightlessly nothing - and consequently there is no difference in physical life and death. There's no more anger nor confusion, just whispers of what's the point. I know that all this sounds poetic (and I haven't covered all that precedes this point such as guilt/imposter/self-ripping) but damn it wasn't beautiful. Suicide might be an idea my mind fiercely puts a gate around, but the desire for death creeps in anyway: there were a few incidents when my foot slowed down when crossing the road, when I walked alone at midnight ... no it wasn't nice.

I'm glad no harm came to me. It turned out that the worst was actually the beginning of my recovery; I managed to hold on for a little longer (thank you to my few friends and family) and gradually the world trickled in. I became fascinated by the sky though it hurt my eyes, but it had so many colours with clouds of different shapes, and a depth that showed that there is much much more beyond. Then the sounds came in. And looking at small children, I realised that I had become one too because we spoke the same language. It was very strange, but that was when I first felt happy! And proud and glad that I had hold on after all.

Falling into the spiral is like your world collapsing into a pile of cards. But let it collapse, and be patient: you will have the chance to rebuild, except with a cleaner slate and more thought for the now and the future. Just need to hold on for a little longer, and sleep, lots of sleep.