I'm just going to drop in my two cents. Because I've been there myself, although I don't like to admit it or even acknowledge its existance in my life. At least not any more.
This was a few years back, in Toronto, Canada, when my grades were slipping, friendships almost non-existant, and the few that I had - well, betrayal, lies, deceit and all that. I saw a few counselors and psychiatrists, although I never started taking anti-depressants on a regular basis. I didn't want the side effects, and I didn't want to be dependant on them. There were times when it was unbearable, sometimes, it was just ok. Y'know, just life passing you by.
It took a great deal of willpower, an idea that spiraled into extreme amount of inspiration, which spiraled into motivation, which fueled my willpower. I assigned blame to others, and told myself it wasn't my fault. I put 100% into absolutely everything that I did, effectively taking myself off of auto-pilot and personally intervening in even the smallest of tasks. Thus began my recovery.
I had effectively declared all-out war on my depression. I vaguely remember someone saying that I looked angry all the time. You know those things that you just take for granted and don't think about - you just do? I personally intervened in everything until my life resembled some form of normalcy. For those terrible moments when you seemingly can't pick yourself up, I found that uplifting, movitating music helped. In the case of betrayal, I transformed all the hurt into anger. I dealt slightly better with that, because I could visualize beating that person up when I hit the gym. I was also seeing a counselor during this time to help vent my frustration and anger.
I put 100% into my classes. Some of my team's weekly paper reports looked like small textbooks. I was quickly voted in to the position of team captain for my particular team (about 12 teams in my program), and kept it for the entire semester, being the longest person to continuously hold the position in the history of the program at my college. It was not just a title though. There were responsibilities, I had to delegate the tasks, and I had to sign off each weekly task, effectively representing my team as a whole to the instructors. I finally graduated with honors. I took such an accomplishment as one of my victories against depression.
I was not yet done though.
The idea that fueled all this to begin with? The financial possibility of pursuing my dream job of being a pilot, as many of you know, is a very expensive endeavor. I submitted my application to the university I am currently at, and got accepted in the early months of 2011.
I was not simply making a move across the city, across the province, or even across the country. I was moving OUT of the country to the United States. In the span of a few months, I had thrown out, donated, burned or sold 90% out of ALL my personal belongings, including furniture from my fully self-furnished apartment. Not a piece of furniture followed me across the border. My iphone, xbox and my macbook were my only electronics to follow me over. And only just enough clothes. And my Ontario college diploma.
An apartment full of stuff minimized into 2 suitcases and a duffel bag. I abandoned my Ontario residency status, and cancelled and closed bank accounts/credit cards. Burned bridges, deleted contacts, and changed my phone number. Deleted people off of FB, and blocked certain people. On the eve of my departure from Toronto, I burned mementos of Toronto (photos, private/confidential documents), visualizing all the hurt, anger, and frustration, and yes, the city, going up in flames.
As soon as I arrived in the United States, I participated in as much as I possibly could to establish myself in my new state of residence. I joined the Air Force ROTC, an aviation fraternity, got inducted into an honor society, I am about to be inducted into the university's honors college, and am volunteering as much as time as I can. I am working out regularly to stay in shape, because of AFROTC, and wanting that endorphin rush and sense of accomplishment after every good workout. I was recently awarded a AFROTC ribbon recognizing me at the top 10% of my class (among 7 other ribbons I was awarded), and I maintain a near-perfect GPA. And I am a student pilot, who just finished my third solo flight and first instrument flight. I'm about halfway done towards my private pilot license.
Such a very abrupt change, intertwined with great accomplishments and success helped get the depression out of me. Hopefully for good.
I believe I am living proof that you can get rid of depression without medication. I wish all of you who still carry such a burden the best of luck in getting rid of it. But please take my experience with a grain of salt. It may or may not work in your circumstances.