Looking back on it, I suffered the first bout of depression when I was about 13. The bouts got progressively worse until was faced with the choice of getting help or snuffing myself.
It was a real act of will and strength to finally ask for help, but it beats dying.
So, call me weak or whatever, but at least I'm still here.
I went off of it last year and did pretty well for about 6 months and then the demon returned. It's like having all of your survival instincts and beliefs turned against yourself--that not only would the 'pain' end, but everyone would be better off without you.
People say suicide is a selfish act, but I think that in the case of depression, the individual believes at that moment that not only are they the source of their own pain, but they cause pain to everyone around them--the only solution is self-slaughter.
So, to the morons who argue against antidepressants, I ask you: "Which is more cowardly and wrong: putting a bullet through my head, or taking a pill and living?"
That's what it comes down to.