I have more than most, a loving relationship, nice pets, and a nice apartment in a beautiful city, but I always come back to this debilitating depression. I can't even walk out the door to go buy paper towels and dish soap. I feel hopeless, unable to change focus from all of the pending threats in my life, inevitable death of loved ones, losing money, having to always work and never being able to catch up or earn enough stability to have children, in hopes of having someone and something bigger than myself to live for and to see something beautiful, and focus on passing on the good things I've learned and value in myself. I'm unable to forgive my dysfunctional upbringing, my mother who made me take care of her in alcoholism and drug abuse, who even after 15 years clean, struggles financially and in loneliness and illness, putting weight on me as the only one to care for her. I'm unable to forgive my younger brother, who I thought my best friend in our shared experience of surviving our dysfunctional family, but who instead has turned into a sociopath and narcissist, who cut me out of his life without empathy or explanation. I feel myself in post trauma, and tread so carefully in the friendships I've made as an adult, but know I cannot help but come off as needy, or sensitive, or smothering. I can only distract myself from my own suicidal ideations by throwing myself into helping others with resumes and job searches, listening and advising to their stories, which seem so trivial in comparison to mine, but I feel some minor relief in pretending that my problems are that small and solvable...i feel some minor relief in pretending that I'm valuable to somebody, even if they just are using me for help now, and have no real interest in having an deeper friendship with me. I feel such anxiety not knowing if I'm hated. or if people harbor resentment toward me for something I've done and am not aware of.... I'm so depressed. I'm so sad. I don't want to burden the few loved ones I have. I can't bare to see happy families who have vacations, and peers who visit their home towns and post images of dinners and respect and memories between siblings. I can't even connect with others who suffer from depression, because theirs seem entirely biological or chemically-based. They cycle through doctors and medication and I cannot relate because there do not seem to be any real events they can list as long and terrible as mine. I've tried medication, was misdiagnosed as several contrasting disorders by different doctors who didn't even attempt talk therapy, or to learn about my life. They just asked 10 questions and dolled out the meds, which caused me to have hives, wet the bed while I slept, made me feel like I was having seizures, and other unnatural experiences. I KNOW the only thing I would be interested in is talk therapy, but the thought of trying to leave the house to meet so many disappointing mismatched therapists until I find one I can trust and respect seems impossible. I feel tortured. I can't take this anymore. Life is full of disappointment and empty gestures, of unreciprocated love, and disrespect and dispiriting of women as they are, and as they age. It seems like there's no hope or anything to look forward to. I've made it to my 30s... I thought I just had experiential trauma from all of the dysfunctional family relationships growing up, I thought I would outgrow this as a teenager, as a college student under high stress, as an adult considering children and a future...but I didn't. I'll always feel this way. I'll always want to die.