It's like having gone through spinal paralysis and coming to the conclusion that "all those lameys should just pull themselves together and start walking, that's what I did". Whatever little inconveniencing bouts of sadness you suffered from, it sure wasn't depression.
Admittedly, I'm sure there's a good chance at least someone has come through spinal paralysis with that sort of attitude - people do occasionally recover, after all, with sufficient effort and loads of luck, and one should never underestimate the ability of people to assumed "I did it so it shouldn't be hard for other people to do it either" for whatever reason. Anecdotes as generalities, right?
It's actually a pretty common way of dealing with depression, albeit often ineffective. Dismissing it as trivial weakens it for a while as a force in your life, whereas the constant barrage of support, therapy, and medication can quickly dominate your life and mindset if it's overdone, so that you're perpetually "recovering" without real hope of recovery (a state which is never really explained). People do the same thing for stopping smoking. Really, the strength needed to deal with it constructively does have to come from the person, not his therapists, so it's a step in the right direction.
For death, I have to agree with people that would want to keep living. 'Quality of life' is a meaningless generalism, like measuring a book by a sliding bar of 'happy reading'. Quality of life isn't always about being happy or comfortable. There are things that I'd want to finish before dying, and pain is horrible and bad, yes, but I couldn't stand to give up on them. If I couldn't write or program, perhaps (Prachett has my sympathies - Alzheimers is my worse than death), but I'm the type that would be stubborn enough to push through a couple of years of medical torture. I don't think I could tell other people to do the same, though.