When you start out in life as a bona fide "abortion that lived" (my mom drank turpentine to try and abort me), and things just went downhill from there, and your life has truly sucked for the greater part of 56 years, is it Depression or "reality"?

And is that maybe why none of the myriad of antidepressants I've ever taken (and whatever scraps of therapy I could afford) over the course of my lifetime have done nothing more than numb my feelings -- at least for a while, until they stopped doing anything at all, other than give me blurry vision, dry mouth and other side effects?