Not long ago I wrote about not wanting to go to therapy again, seeing it as a sign of my own personal failure. I felt similarly about resorting to drugs. When I came off citalopram last time, in 2014, it was a point of pride for me. I was proud that I had reached a point where I felt comfortable to go it alone, to swim by myself without the buoyancy aid. Without cheating. Continue reading “It’s not cheating to ask for help”