Can't tell my parents anything, they turn my mental problems against me and refuse to speak to me.

I've had clinical depression my whole life. I've been on I don't know how many ssris through my life. I've recently tried Citilopram (and Paxil before that), neither help, both prescribed by a GP. Drugs didn't help me when I was 7, they don't help now. No one can get this through their head. Every time I take Citilopram I feel like offing myself. Every single time. So I've taken myself off it like every other srri/ stabilizer/ whatever I've been on.

Now my depression and stress is getting worse and I can't get it through to them. I've recently came out as transgender, ftm, to my family. I've gotten just about every bad reaction I can out of them. My mom is threatening to kick me out and cut me off of insurance. She hasn't talked to me in over a month. My step-dad sides with her to save his marriage with her. They don't want to read anything, talk, or anything at all. They're pretty convinced I don't know what I'm doing and that I'm nuts. I beg them to just trust me, but they say it's not a matter of trust. Wtf is it then? They say they love me, but how can they? They tell me I'm wrong, making a mistake. I'm close minded for being trans and not doing as they wish. They don't trust me, I have been told this before.

This has only made everything worse for me mentally. I already hated myself before coming out, and now that my family is rejecting me I just would rather be dead sometimes. Being an art major I used to be able to cope with my depression, but I can't anymore. Off and on through my life I'd SH, usually just hitting and biting. I've never cut, and haven't meaningly SH'd in years. But the start of this month I started cutting out of the blue after a horrifyingly strong urge to. And now I feel like it's the only way I can cope with any of this. I guess it's more along the line of scratching, but with a needle. I don't want scars, but it leaves some pretty irritated scratches and cuts. It does enough for me because I can rub alcohol or salt into the scratches to make them sting like fuck.

I've told my family about my increased issues and depression. They just gaslight me over it, telling me I'm not trans and it's all apart of my mental issues. I tell them I'm suicidal and they just push me back more, tell me I need to snap out of it or grow up, and cite it as a reason I'm not trans. I can't tell them anything. I'm not allowed to be depressed. I can't be open to them about anything. I told my step-dad I've started SHing out of fear and rage a while ago, and I can't wait for his bullshit response.

I am getting help, let me make that clear. The college I go to/dorm at has free 30min therapy sessions every Wednesday. My therapist knows I SH, she knows I'm delusional, she knows I'm depressed and she knows I'm trans. My sister also supports me, and my biological dad kinda does. And hopefully soon I am starting hrt. For once I feel happy with coming out and living as a man. But my family is doing the best they can to snatch it away from me. I'm stressed out and my depression seems a million times worse. My family says they love me, but they just shit on me every chance they get. I'm so tired of being sad all the time. I was so happy after going to a doc who can help me transition, even if it means payment plans and debt and doing it behind my family's back. I was happy, then I tell myself I can't be happy or bad things will happen. I do feel less depressed in many ways, but more in others.

I know transitioning won't get rid of all my depression, but since starting transitioning socially I feel so much better. Knowing I can start hrt I feel even more better. But my family just tries so hard to make me feel like shit, to put doubt in my head, blame my mental issues on me being ftm, tell me I'm making a mistake and do it all under the guise of "we just want whats best for you."

I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sick of being depressed all the time. I'm sick of struggling to get up or struggling to do my course work. I'm sick of hurting myself in order to cope. I'm sick of all these fucking shitty thoughts. I just, for once, want to be happy and feel like it's OK for me to stay happy. I don't understand why none of the dozen ssris I've been on help. I just don't know anymore. All I do is cry and act melodramatic and I hate that shit. I feel like I'm at the end of my rope for what I can handle. This is all I think about.