I should be happy, I have career, family, home, money, social contacts, interests. There is only one thing - I think daily, many times a day, about buying the means of my self destruction, and of exactly where, when, and how I would do it. Because of one thing - in August 2012, I was threatened and attacked on the job, and I snapped, it brought back very painful memories. I ended up in the psych ward for 3 weeks. And I can't live with the shame and disgrace of that. I should have been stronger. I should never have ceded control of my life to others. And I live in constant fear that people will find out about it, and my personal and professional reputation will be ruined, my career over. I now hate myself, a white- hot burning hatred. I often wish I had died then and there. I see no way out and no reason to try to make a life when it can be yanked away at any time. I feel like all anyone will ever view me as is "mental patient" or "psycho" or "nuts".