It all started like most plot twists in life — with an email. After working from home for ages (thanks to our beloved lockdown), I got the dreaded news: “You’re requested to return to office.”Now, that may sound normal to most people. But for my bipolar brain, it was like throwing a cat into a rock concert. You see, offices aren’t just about chairs and coffee machines. They are emotional war zones. Too many faces. Too many energies. Too many invisible knives.And I’d already had my share of “Mr. Tough Guy” colleagues triggering my mania like it’s a light switch. I was nervous — like first-day-of-school, forgot-to-wear-pants kind of nervous.…