Imagine your head was gradually filling with water. Not ordinary water but a liquid that would unlock your deepest fears and recreate your worst memories.

As the water rises these thoughts become impossible to ignore. The water floods your ears and eyes, dulling the senses and leaving you tormented. Locked away from the world as it is.

I’ve been battling to keep the monsters at bay my whole life but they were now too numerous, too powerful. I was confronted in every activity.
In trying to run I abandoned control of my life. All I once cared for would be gladly traded to relieve the pain. It no longer mattered.

Suicide was a valid option. I’m not afraid of it. My Father broke that taboo years ago. I didn’t really want to surrender my consciousness but it sounded like a solid plan B. The idea actually gave me some comfort, I tried to detach and carry on.

Early Wednesday morning I was struck still. Wave after wave of terror rose over me. I knew a suicide attempt at that desperate moment would be rash and careless. I couldn't risk failure yet I had to find an escape.

The only option was to pick up the phone...

Tomorrow's episode: "Losing one's mind is a terrible thing to waste", or "Getting a bumper crop from your funny farm"

Is there salvation? Can find Bob trade his respected position for one of satisfaction and social conscience? Moreover could he survive without his dumbwaiter and his Jaguar? Can he make peace with the past? Will it all be worth it or will it be his final destruction?

This space is really just for me. It is a desperate effort to make some sense of my life. I’m not one for pen and paper so I decided to blog. If you find it amusing read ‘till your hearts content.

I know that the male midlife crisis is the stuff of legend, but I was totally unprepared for the questions that would begin to torment me. It's as if the kid I once was had re-emerged, demanding to know what the hell went wrong and what we are going to do about it.

On the outside I have a lifestyle that some actually envy. I have the nice home, the flashy car and a position of power and authority. Everything I was taught that makes a man a man. Everything I needed to guarantee happiness.

I just assumed that contentment would arrive once everything was in place. It never did. What I did get is this all-encompassing dissatisfaction and the need for medical care. I knew there were a few skeletons in my closet but I never expected an intervention staged by my inner child.

Now I'm groping for changes that will restore my soul, work that will restore my sanity. An old trout who must turn back upstream for survival. Dreading the return to those murky waters and scarred from the beating the rocks gave the first time.

Where to find the prodigal river ...

Is there salvation? Can find Bob trade his respected position for one of satisfaction and social conscience? Moreover could he survive without his dumbwaiter and his Jaguar? Can he make peace with the past? Will it all be worth it or will it be his final destruction?
Tune in tomorrow as we try to answer these questions and more