I couldn’t share these feelings with my wife or my family; I was their protector. I couldn’t let them get a glimpse of this toxic mass of shit welling up in the corners of my mind. I attempted to open up to a few in the mental health community, but I could see the panic in their eyes when I got even remotely close to real talk. No, it was clear-I was on my own, because I am a Fixer.
Not Unusually Gifted 