My first story to be told. It starts near the end. So much confusion, so much shame. Looking around to find someone to blame, but as he does he does he finds no one. The reality sets in pushing, no forcing him with such great pressure, deeper and deeper into a depressed state. Still coherent enough to know he needs help but to far gone to seek it. Living , but lifeless. He goes about each day wanting to die, wanting a way out. The decisions he has made, the world he has created was one that he never would have thought possible. To the normal person no one would notice. He has it all. A good career, good family, and a good life. Therefore what’s the problem? What could it possibly be that has caused him to go so far so fast into this state of depression? It’s the things no one knows about. The things he only knows. The people he has hurt. The choices he has made selfishly. It is these things that keep him awake at night, and nearly kills him everyday. He’s holding on with what he has left. He knows he needs help. One could only hope for change in the future, and in his case it’s life or death.