It is 11:42 PM on a Tuesday. The house is completely dark, save for the harsh, blue glow of a laptop screen illuminating a cluttered kitchen table. David sits alone, his head buried in his hands. On the table lies a stack of overdue utility bills, a spreadsheet of his company’s impending restructuring plan, and a framed photograph of his smiling wife and two young children. To the outside world, David is the definition of a rock. He is the first to arrive at the office, the neighbor who helps clear the driveway, the husband who handles every household crisis with a calm nod, and the father who never misses a weekend soccer game. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t vent. But inside, David feels like he is drowning. His chest feels tight, a persistent insomnia has plagued him for six months, and a cloud of suffocating exhaustion follows him everywhere. Lately, the fear of failing his family—financially, emotionally, and socially—has become a paralyzing weight. Yet, when his wife gently asks ...