I want to be a real girl

I'm still in bed at 3.30pm. I made it out of bed briefly this morning, but I ended up calling, or rather, emailing in sick. I'm feeling guilty about that, but I'd probably feel better if I were only physically, not mentally ill, and it's not as if I got any work done last week despite being there late into the evening every day (which only compounded the guilt, really, since everyone assumed I'd been working too hard). But, it's also not as if I'm going to feel any better for having taken the day off. I had intentions of writing my proposal (it's due in just over a week!!) to justify staying home, but of course I haven't. I did actually start writing yesterday, but was so discouraged by the few clunky, cliched sentences I managed to string together that I couldn't face it any more. It's getting to the stage where I'm starting to wonder if there's any way I can postpone it. I'm sure depression would count as a good enough reason for them, but I know I'm just lazy and avoidant and I should really have written it already. The part I'm not sure I can do is admit to my advisor or anyone else in my program that I can't do this. Apart from my usual issues of not wanting anyone to know anything about me, I'm worried about what effect that would have on how my advisor and committee see me and act towards me for the rest of my PhD. I don't know if it's disproportionate, but an awful lot of people in my program are on anti-depressants, but somehow that doesn't reduce the stigma in my mind.
I'm feeling guilty about this blog too. It really is just a desperate plea for help, but I have no right to inflict my great gaping need on strangers. I feel like, by putting anything up here I'm saying I want people to read it, which I do but think I shouldn't, and that I think it's worth reading, which I don't. And writing things like this makes it worse, as if I'm trying to guilt people into reading/reassuring me.
I spent this morning reading archives at Bitch.Ph.D. and finding myself bursting into tears at linked stories of injustice - probably not the best material for my depressed state of mind, but wonderful thinking and writing. I was slightly encouraged by her descriptions of procrastination and very much in awe of her sense of entitlement. I feel like I shouldn't use the word entitlement, as if I'm insulting her because I wouldn't dream of claiming a sense of entitlement for myself. I'm not sure what, if anything, I feel entitled to. This is one of those differences between Everyone Else and me.
In one of my attempts to fix my life I got a self-help book on "overcoming low self-esteem". It's a cognitive-behavioural workbook that looks very helpful. I worked through the parts dealing with figuring out the underlying rules for living that control my behaviour, but I couldn't bring myself to do any of the exercises designed to change these irrational beliefs because my bottom line, as they call it, is that I'm not a real person, therefore I'm not even entitled to self-esteem.
Oh my god... I just googled Pinocchio to fact check the post title (yes, I'm that insecure about my memory and yes, these asides are an example of constantly feeling I need to justify my actions). Did I read this too young and internalise it?
" "It's about time for me to grow as everyone else does. I want to be a real person rather than a wooden boy."
"And you will if you deserve it--"
"Really?" Pinocchio exclaimed. "Tell me, what can I do to deserve it?"
"First one must act like a well-behaved child."
"Then, I promise, from now on I'll be different," said Pinocchio. "I want nothing more than to be a good boy and a comfort to my Father.... he knew that he must obey if he was ever one day to become a real little boy. He knew that he must be hard-working and honest, generous and good"
I didn't expect the glib post title to be so accurate... Although I don't have a blue fairy to make me into a real girl, even if I were hard-working and honest and generous and good. Even then, I don't think I'd feel like I deserved it.