“Why aren't you happy?”
“Because I have depression.”
“Well then, why are you depressed?”
“Because I can't feel happy.”
“Couldn't you try not being depressed?”
“You mean pretend I'm happy even though I'm not and maybe I'll be able to shake it off?”
“Yeah, why can't you do that?”
“I tried that once.”
“Did it work?”
“No, it made me feel worse. I ended up sitting in the bottom of my closet measuring bits of cord, just so I knew if they were long enough to hang myself with.”
“So you can't just shake this off then?”
“Nope, too depressed.”
“And you can't feel happy because your depressed?”
“And you're depressed because you can't feel happy?”
“That's right, you got it.”
“I don't understand.”
“I know. That's okay though. There's a little piece of me that is glad that you don't understand and hopes you never do.”
The number of depressed people in your social circle may stagger you. (Especially the number of guys.) And no two may end up dealing with it the same. For me, treatment involved finding the right medication to make the stupid chemicals and stupid wiring work better. These things are not asprin and not to be taken lightly. Medication is a trade-off of the desired positive effects, against undesirable side-effects.
Some people use meditation. Others have ongoing therapy. I had therapy for the first few years after my diagnosis of PTSD to debride the huge amounts of shame and self blame over the years of sexual abuse I suffered. I don't need the therapy any more. Indeed, I was doing so well there was even thinking I didn't need the medication any more, but four months later...
So, for me, it's medication for life. For others it's something else. It could be looking in the mirror every morning and saying, “I'm a pretty princess.” If that works or you, then great! I envy you.
There is no silver bullet. Pragmatism trumps opinion. If, and I stress, if what you are doing is working for you, then I wish you good fortune, and would never tell you you're doing it the wrong way.