I can't stop myself.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

I repeated this phrase to myself as quietly as possible so as not to wake my wife. It would be better, of course, to simply think the question rather than say it, but I was well beyond having the capacity to do so.

Claris was asleep on the bed behind where I was sitting. She looked like an angel, protected from the outside world by the blankets wrapped around her. She had no idea what was happening to me right now and I hoped it would remain that way.

I quickly shut down my computer and stood up. Nothing was finished yet, there was still more that I could do.

No, stop it.

I sat back down on my chair a bit more violently than intended and pulled out my phone. Facebook would be a great distraction from the feelings currently welled up within me. Pictures of my friends with their families flooded my screen, temporarily calming me. We recently had a fight with our oldest about Facebook pictures that ended with the promise to never upload her photos without permission. Apparently, teenagers don't like remembering the time they used to be cute...

Before I knew it, I had opened up a different app and been scrolling that. I eyed every individual picture on the screen and thought about how I could easily-

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

I locked my phone and took a deep breath.

This wasn't going to work.

My next step was to go to the kitchen for some water. Gulping down some medicine my doctor gave me, I reflected again on what it was that was making me feel this way.

Was it some kind of dissatisfaction with my current life? Was it my illness? Would I be this ill if I was truly happy, like I tell myself I am? What reasons do I have to not be happy?

In my hand, my phone buzzed and flickered its screen to remind me I had a notification for an order confirmation email.

I am truly beyond saving.