I tried for the first time in five years last Friday night, Since I can't go into details here I'll just say that work on Saturday and Sunday was almost unbearable. I was in such a poor mood that everyone spent the entire weekend asking what was wrong, which only made me feel worse because I couldn't get the words out. I wanted to tell someone what had happened, but I knew what would happen if I did. It's like we get punished for being the way we are. You're born with a malfunctioning brain, which makes it impossible to be a normal person and the only response people can come up with is to lock you in a grimy cell! What is wrong with the world when people with genuine mental problems are treated worse than common criminals. There are two people at work who I wanted to tell, but I work for a mega-corporate restaurant and knew what the result would be: call the hospital and have me quietly taken away. Then, even if you still have a job ( and trust me, everyone is expendable ) there is the inevitable shame associated with the event. Honestly, it seems like the cure is worse than the illness.