So I have to have this disorder for the rest of my life?
Take drugs, have some relief, but horrible side effects?
Do I have to suffer without warning - without provocation, without 'reason' - just because my brain chemistry is out of whack? Because some genes turned on when I was a kid?
Am I destined to make the people around me suffer because I react in the 'wrong way' to things? Because my nervous system is so sensitive... Because the tiniest thing can make me feel rage, or despair, and I have to use every ounce of strength to remain calm and 'present' normally otherwise I upset everyone... The strength involved in that, people don't understand. 

My wife is expressing all this relief. Saying it's 'so good to have me back' after two years of hell. I'm not fucking back. I was never gone. I was sick. I am sick. They might as well have told me I have a brain tumor that'll kill me. What's the difference? 

Knowing all of this, having awareness, fighting with myself... Is this my life? Is this forever? Am I only allowed to have crumbs of normality for mere moments? Am I cursed to have to crawl through life like this forever?

The wife of one of my colleagues took her own life recently. Two young children. Late thirties.

I relate more to her than almost everyone around me. That kind of suffering. People's reactions make me sick.

People don't get it. I am so alone. I am so, so, so sick of being on this never ending rollercoaster. I want to get off.