It’s hard to believe I’m sitting here, writing this post—the one I always knew would come someday, but hoped I could put off just a little longer. After nearly two decades of pouring my heart and soul into this blog, I find myself at a crossroads. It’s not an easy thing to walk away from something that has become such a core part of your life, but as time moves forward, so must I.
When I first hit "publish" on my very first blog post back in 2006, I had no idea where this journey would lead. It was just me, a keyboard, and a burning need to speak out about an issue that was close to my heart—the dangers of antidepressants. I never expected that this little corner of the internet would grow the way it has. Over 3 million hits later, I’m still amazed by the power of community, of shared stories, and the ripple effect that raising awareness can create. This blog became so much more than I could have ever dreamed.
And yet, here we are—on the brink of something new. Today, I’m announcing that this space, which has been my constant companion, my outlet, my platform, and even my refuge, is stepping back to make room for a new chapter: a podcast. It’s with a mixture of excitement and sadness that I close one door and prepare to open another.
Before I step into the unknown of podcasting, I want to take a moment to reflect on all that has been accomplished here. Together, we’ve shone a light on the very real and often hidden dangers of antidepressants. Through this platform, we’ve challenged the narrative that these drugs are harmless or even helpful for everyone. We’ve dug deep into the data, listened to real people’s experiences, and called for accountability where it was sorely lacking. The countless conversations sparked here, the stories you’ve shared with me, and the sense of community we’ve built have far exceeded anything I ever imagined when I started writing all those years ago.
There’s something deeply personal about the written word. It’s intimate. It’s raw. And over the years, this blog has been a place where I’ve not only shared information but connected with so many of you on a personal level. Many of you have been with me since the early days, sharing your own struggles, victories, and even heartbreaks. Your courage and honesty have fueled my own passion for this cause. The friendships I’ve made through this blog are something I will always carry with me, no matter where this journey takes me next.
There have been some incredible milestones along the way—moments that I still look back on with pride and a sense of purpose. Winning not one, but two Human Rights Awards from CCHR stands out as a highlight. It felt like a validation of all the long hours, the research, the late nights spent writing and rewriting, driven by a commitment to give a voice to those who felt silenced. Yet, as much as those awards meant to me, what mattered more were the countless messages and emails from people who said, "This blog made me feel less alone." That’s what this has always been about—community, solidarity, and advocacy.
Having my book, "The Evidence, However, is Clear, the Seroxat Scandal", published too was a great achievement for me, it helped spread the word and, as I understand, helped many people understand the dangers of Seroxat and other SSRIs.
But times are changing. The world moves fast, and while blogging has been my go-to platform for nearly 18 years, I’ve watched as new platforms and new advocates have risen to prominence. And it’s been a thrill to see that happen. There’s a new generation stepping up, full of energy and determination, and they’re continuing the fight with a vigor that’s contagious. The battle against the over-prescription and under-regulation of antidepressants is far from over, and in many ways, it feels like it’s just beginning for them. These younger voices are calling for change in a way that is fresh, bold, and urgent.
So, it’s with this new wave of advocacy in mind that I’m moving into a new format: podcasting. The written word has served me well, but now, I’m excited to bring conversations to life in a more dynamic way. "Two Boring Old Men" is the next phase of this journey, and while the title might sound light-hearted, the conversations will be as serious and necessary as ever. I believe this format will allow for deeper, more nuanced conversations—ones that I hope will resonate with a new and broader audience.
And yet, as I say all of this, I can’t help but feel the weight of what I’m leaving behind. This blog has been a huge part of my life for nearly two decades. Letting it go feels like closing a chapter that I’ve been writing for so long that I almost don’t remember what life was like before it. It’s hard to walk away from something that has been a constant companion. But I know, deep down, that it’s time. Time to step back, time to explore new opportunities, and time to trust that the seeds planted here will continue to grow in the hands of others. The blog will remain in place but I won't be adding any more stories/articles to it. It's still a rich source of information for many new to this dark world of antidepressant regulation and safety.
Before I sign off, I want to say thank you. Thank you to each and every one of you who has taken the time to read a post, leave a comment, send me an email, or share your own story. Thank you for being part of this community—for making this blog so much more than just a collection of articles. It has been a collective effort, and I’m deeply grateful for the friendships, the support, and the shared passion for justice. You’ve all made this journey worthwhile, and I will carry that with me forever.
I hope you’ll follow me into this next chapter. "Two Boring Old Men" is just getting started, and I’m confident it will be an enjoyable, engaging, and enlightening experience for us all. New conversations and new subject matter for Two Boring Old Men to pursue. You can find the podcast on our website, twoboringoldmen.com, and we’ve also set up a TikTok account where we’ll be sharing clips and updates at https://www.tiktok.com/@twoboringoldmen
With gratitude, and a heavy heart,
Bob Fiddaman
When I first hit "publish" on my very first blog post back in 2006, I had no idea where this journey would lead. It was just me, a keyboard, and a burning need to speak out about an issue that was close to my heart—the dangers of antidepressants. I never expected that this little corner of the internet would grow the way it has. Over 3 million hits later, I’m still amazed by the power of community, of shared stories, and the ripple effect that raising awareness can create. This blog became so much more than I could have ever dreamed.
And yet, here we are—on the brink of something new. Today, I’m announcing that this space, which has been my constant companion, my outlet, my platform, and even my refuge, is stepping back to make room for a new chapter: a podcast. It’s with a mixture of excitement and sadness that I close one door and prepare to open another.
Before I step into the unknown of podcasting, I want to take a moment to reflect on all that has been accomplished here. Together, we’ve shone a light on the very real and often hidden dangers of antidepressants. Through this platform, we’ve challenged the narrative that these drugs are harmless or even helpful for everyone. We’ve dug deep into the data, listened to real people’s experiences, and called for accountability where it was sorely lacking. The countless conversations sparked here, the stories you’ve shared with me, and the sense of community we’ve built have far exceeded anything I ever imagined when I started writing all those years ago.
There’s something deeply personal about the written word. It’s intimate. It’s raw. And over the years, this blog has been a place where I’ve not only shared information but connected with so many of you on a personal level. Many of you have been with me since the early days, sharing your own struggles, victories, and even heartbreaks. Your courage and honesty have fueled my own passion for this cause. The friendships I’ve made through this blog are something I will always carry with me, no matter where this journey takes me next.
There have been some incredible milestones along the way—moments that I still look back on with pride and a sense of purpose. Winning not one, but two Human Rights Awards from CCHR stands out as a highlight. It felt like a validation of all the long hours, the research, the late nights spent writing and rewriting, driven by a commitment to give a voice to those who felt silenced. Yet, as much as those awards meant to me, what mattered more were the countless messages and emails from people who said, "This blog made me feel less alone." That’s what this has always been about—community, solidarity, and advocacy.
Having my book, "The Evidence, However, is Clear, the Seroxat Scandal", published too was a great achievement for me, it helped spread the word and, as I understand, helped many people understand the dangers of Seroxat and other SSRIs.
But times are changing. The world moves fast, and while blogging has been my go-to platform for nearly 18 years, I’ve watched as new platforms and new advocates have risen to prominence. And it’s been a thrill to see that happen. There’s a new generation stepping up, full of energy and determination, and they’re continuing the fight with a vigor that’s contagious. The battle against the over-prescription and under-regulation of antidepressants is far from over, and in many ways, it feels like it’s just beginning for them. These younger voices are calling for change in a way that is fresh, bold, and urgent.
So, it’s with this new wave of advocacy in mind that I’m moving into a new format: podcasting. The written word has served me well, but now, I’m excited to bring conversations to life in a more dynamic way. "Two Boring Old Men" is the next phase of this journey, and while the title might sound light-hearted, the conversations will be as serious and necessary as ever. I believe this format will allow for deeper, more nuanced conversations—ones that I hope will resonate with a new and broader audience.
And yet, as I say all of this, I can’t help but feel the weight of what I’m leaving behind. This blog has been a huge part of my life for nearly two decades. Letting it go feels like closing a chapter that I’ve been writing for so long that I almost don’t remember what life was like before it. It’s hard to walk away from something that has been a constant companion. But I know, deep down, that it’s time. Time to step back, time to explore new opportunities, and time to trust that the seeds planted here will continue to grow in the hands of others. The blog will remain in place but I won't be adding any more stories/articles to it. It's still a rich source of information for many new to this dark world of antidepressant regulation and safety.
Before I sign off, I want to say thank you. Thank you to each and every one of you who has taken the time to read a post, leave a comment, send me an email, or share your own story. Thank you for being part of this community—for making this blog so much more than just a collection of articles. It has been a collective effort, and I’m deeply grateful for the friendships, the support, and the shared passion for justice. You’ve all made this journey worthwhile, and I will carry that with me forever.
I hope you’ll follow me into this next chapter. "Two Boring Old Men" is just getting started, and I’m confident it will be an enjoyable, engaging, and enlightening experience for us all. New conversations and new subject matter for Two Boring Old Men to pursue. You can find the podcast on our website, twoboringoldmen.com, and we’ve also set up a TikTok account where we’ll be sharing clips and updates at https://www.tiktok.com/@twoboringoldmen
With gratitude, and a heavy heart,
Bob Fiddaman
