I AM a disabled person, sweetie. I have only partial vision in one eye. When my mother left and Dad killed himself as a result, I spent years as a depressed NEET with so little energy to spare that every day I would weigh the pros and cons of shitting the bed so I didn't have to go to the effort to get up and drag my sorry ass to the toilet. I attempted suicide twice, and obviously failed both times, which just made me feel worse - on top of all the shit that made me want to kill myself in the first place, add "too incompetent to even die right" to the list. Great, huh? Then I got proper treatment and slowly shifted my perspective. I'm not "coping", I'm sharing my experience.
One of the main symptoms of depression is being absolutely certain that things will either never change or will only get worse. 10,000 years of human history show this to be a categorically false belief. I'm telling you that it can and does get better, if you do right by yourself.
Like I said, do you really think that out of eight billion humans, everyone thinks and feels exactly like you? That's just absurd. I can't fathom the level of arrogance and narcissism it would take for a healthy person to seriously believe that.
I was treated with antidepressants for a few years. They didn't help, I couldn't cum either, and also I gained a lot of weight and I slept ten hours a day and still felt groggy when I was awake. Then I went to a new psychiatrist who thought I might have bipolar depression rather than "normal" depression. It's BPD except you don't have the euphoric mania, so it presents like depression. But since it's BPD, it's treated with antipsychotics rather than antidepressants. I got on lithium and brexpriprazol. I did a few ECT sessions. I went to an ayahuasca ceremony. Lo and behold, I got better. The treatment gave me enough energy to change my habits. I started exercising, meditating, I took up old hobbies I had abandoned because I couldn't be bothered. Every small change I made synergized with the others to give me more energy and lessen my burdens. And before I knew it, I was happy and looking forward to tomorrow.
Believing that everyone who is happy is actually faking it is a coping mechanism, and a very bad one at that. It makes you feel slightly less horrible to think that everyone else feels just as shitty as you do. But fortunately, it isn't true. Most people are happy. That's why the people who share your view that it'd be better if we all died off are so few and far between. That's why we laugh and sing and dance and make art and celebrate. The evidence for the existence of actual happiness is overwhelming, and the fact that you still think it's bullshit is undeniable proof that you're ill.
This is a very good thing, because it means it can be fixed. Forget SSRIs, they obviously won't help you. Try antipsychotics, try ketamine, try ECT, try fucking tricyclics or MAOIs or a heroic dose of magic mushrooms if you have to. Worst case scenario, it doesn't work and you stop taking them again. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. If you refuse to try getting better because you believe there's no such thing, that's a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you're going to feel like shit forever anyway, why not feel like shit while trying not to instead of just rolling over and taking it like something that already died but forgot to stop moving?