How do I express myself?

I know now that this isn't a typical, stay-in-bed-all-day depression. This is depression of my heart, depression of my emotions and my brain is throwing them all up. I want so badly to see a light at the end of this tunnel. I'm so afraid of my existence amounting to absolutely nothing. It hurts. Everything hurts. Nothing I say or type or do is right. I feel like I am bursting at the seems with energy and completely exhausted at the same time. My brain is in over drive and I can barely seem to think or focus on any one thing for more than 23 seconds. I'm obsessed with picking the one perfect thing to think about or do at any given moment, but nothing ever seems quite right. I can see the flaws and cracks in every thing more clearly than ever, mostly in myself and every thing I think and do, but also in other people. I turn to someone I once looked up to and their very existence seems so crappy and mundane. Everything they talk about sucks. The food they eat looks stale. It's like I've reawakened my awful adolescence. I realize now though that even if I wanted to I can't put this part of me away. My inability to express any of this is the worst thing in the world. My brain is working so hard every day to generate all of these ideas and stories and none of them ever get told. This is the worst thing to me. I imagine a painter who spent his life creating masterpieces, then locking them up in a closet and never showing them to anyone. Some people paint for themselves, that's fine- but I don't. I think to be able to share my ideas with others. The problem is that I don't even know how. I don't have a platform to. Do I speak, write, speak, dance? Furthermore, are my ideas even worth sharing with others? I love writing, but I feel like my ideas aren't even worth telling anyone about. I'm waiting for someone else to discover me, for someone else to show me what to do, and this just plain sucks. I know this will never happen. And other people have seen glimpses of who I really am and the power I want to express, but they're probably just as confused as me. Then I feel guilty for not expressing myself, and I can feel the ugly clock of time ticking away and I feel this panic and dread. I fear that I will never move from this place, and if I never move from this place I will never fulfill my destiny, but of course, this begs the questions: What the hell am I supposed to be doing? If only I knew, I would do it. If only someone would hand me down a giant roadmap and step by step directions, I would follow every single one, no matter how painful and soul-exposing. I would reach into the ugliest, darkest places if only someone would tell me how. When I was a kid I hated those choose your own adventure books. I want to watch the story unfold from my safe place, but it's so hard to be so present with myself and so aware of my true desires, because my desires are huge. They reach beyond what anyone in my life has accomplished, and I simply don't know if I am up to this task. I must be having these feelings for a reason, I tell myself. There has to be some good, solid reason I am built this way. This all must tie together and make some kind of sense. If I don't have faith in that, I am just broken and flawed and I don't fit.