I live with depression and anxiety.* I take medication, I practice meditation and CBT, and I see a therapist regularly to help me handle it. It doesn’t control my life, and it doesn’t define my life . . . but when it’s really bad, it sure feels like it does. When it’s really bad, it feels like it is the only thing in my entire life, the Alpha and Omega of my existence.

I’ve been fighting depression and anxiety all my life by 'managing' and 'controlling' it, by simply blocking traumatic experiences I’ve encountered since I was a young girl. I attempted suicide twice in my life because I just did not want to be here and feel this pain any more

I have a terrible problem with procrastination... a friend told me, "Well, you should go to therapy." And I thought about it, but then I said, "Wait a minute. Why should I pay a stranger to listen to me talk when I can get strangers to pay to listen to me talk?" And that's when I got the idea of touring.

I had some emotional issues, so I went to a therapist. And guess what I don’t have now? That’s right, I don’t have any extra money. But I still have those emotional issues.

A young man came for psychotherapy because, though he was intellectually very competent and seemed superficially to be very successful, his spontaneity was almost completely blocked.

I’ve had my fair share of severe depression and anxiety a few years ago which has had an impact on my life. This experience taught me the value of self-love and self-care which I continue to grow in.

Exercise is your best therapist. Go to therapy.

I don't really look at myself as the kind of person who craves attention, but I've never been to therapy so there's probably a lot of stuff about myself that I don't know.

I found out there were thousands of Autistics just like me, who discovered their disability in adulthood after years of confused self-loathing. As children, these Autistic folks had been visibly awkward, but they were mocked for it instead of given help. Like me, they had developed coping strategies to blend in. Things like staring at a person's forehead to simulate eye contact, or memorizing conversational scripts based on exchanges they saw on TV. Many of these stealthily Autistic people fell back on their intellect or other talents to gain acceptance. Others became incredibly passive, because if they toned down their personalities, they wouldn't have to risk being too "intense." Beneath the inoffensive, professional veneers they had developed, their lives were falling apart. Many of them suffered from self-harm, eating disorders, and alcoholism. They were trapped in abusive or unfulfilling relationships, with no clue how to feel seen and appreciated. Nearly all of them were depressed, haunted by a profound sense of emptiness. Their entire lives had been shaped by mistrust in themselves, hatred of their bodies, and fear of their desires.

Fortunately analysis is not the only way to resolve inner conflicts. Life itself still remains a very effective therapist... The therapy effected by life itself is not, however, within one's control. Neither hardships nor friendships nor religious experience can be arranged to meet the needs of the particular individual. Life as a therapist is ruthless; circumstances that are helpful to one neurotic may entirely crush another.

I think therapy 100% saved my life.

Advice I would give to my younger self? I don’t know that I would really give her advice. She was a little too angry to take advice. I’d probably just get in a fight with her. I’m very thankful for it [childhood]. Of course, when I deal with things in therapy and whatnot, therapy has helped me a lot to figure my own shit out. It’s really helped me understand and not be so angry in life. I think I always felt like I didn’t necessarily have a voice, the way I grew up. It was like everyone else’s voice was on me.

"I went to a psychiatrist once. I was doing something that had become a pattern in my life, and I thought, Well, I should go talk to a psychiatrist. When I got into the room, l asked him, "Do you think that this process could, in any way, damage my creativity?" And he said, "Well, David, I have to be honest: it could." And I shook his hand and left."

I was feeling a bit down, I went to a therapist a few times, at a hundred bucks a pop. But then I realized that no therapy session would ever cheer me up half as much as if I was just strolling along and found a hundred dollar bill.