Finally found a couple of good posts about anhedonia.
Most of the time this isn't really seen as anything more than an annoyance by most psychiatrists, simply because they think that the absence of pleasure isn't nearly as bad as the presence of negative emotion - and in my experience, in no way is that true. I would much rather prefer being my usual hateful depressed self than this robotic mindless husk of a person, but for the sake of keeping up appearances for relatives and the like - the illusion of me 'getting better', I'm keeping to my medication. It's another one of those cases where I could thrust suffering onto others, or keep it to myself, and in that regard I feel more in control when I'm facing something alone. I'd get horrible anxiety, for example, if I just let the people around me know that I'm, shock and horror!, going off medication. So I won't, and will simply be semi-content to bitch about it on the internet. Life is being a toilet bowl attached to a toilet that is never flushed. Sometimes there's delicious corn or carrots in there, and sometimes people get mostly carrot, but they're still being shat upon in the grand scheme of things. Thus ends my quick stream of productivity on this blog (I think, at least) as a christmas present to the fifty or so people that read it.