Social 'rules'

1. Talking openly about therapy and anti-depressants.

Because of movies and TV and Woody Allen and my inherent assumption that everyone is as miserable as I am, for a long time I didn’t even know that therapy had a stigma. Most of America is on pills and it’s my belief that even the sanest person could benefit from a check-in with a shrink.

I don’t understand the big deal in admitting that you’re a little groggy because you’re switching up your psych meds. I don’t understand the big deal in quoting something your therapist said — and citing her — if it’s relevant to the conversation. It took me six months to catch on that the eye-blinking, stilted reactions I got from people when I casually referred to therapy as though it were a nail appointment was because it is a thing that other people think is an intimate and momentous admission. To me, dealing with head sickness is not so different from dealing with body sickness. We’re all a little scewed up in our own ways, just like we all have our own little ailments of poor circulation or back pain. So why don’t we talk about it the way we talk about Zicam and Advil? To me, chill openness about being in therapy or on meds reveals not craziness, but a mature interest in self-improvement, and even better, a bold declaration of a lack of shame. At least, that’s what my therapist told me.