Been on meds for over half my life, had one of the biggest most earth-shattering panic attacks the other day, all in front of some of my closest friends.  Now the anger is gone, and the self-loathing has taken up that spare space.  I feel so bad I put them through that, and now there’s nothing else I can do but move on.

I can’t even compare my problems to some of yours - hell, any of yours.  I’ve always had a comfortable upbringing with loving family and friends.  By so many worldly metrics, I’m successful.  But what’s the purpose in all of these supposed great things if I constantly only feel worse and worse?  I am not going to take my own life, but man, when the entire world just feels monotone and grayscale, it’s so incredibly hard to see the point.