“Doubt and self-loathing consumed him. The more he dwelled on it, the sicker he felt.”

Doubt and self-loathing consumed him. The more he dwelled on it, the sicker he felt. His stomach twisted in knots. Dark bags settled beneath his eyes, lasting for weeks, no matter how much time he spent sleeping—his only escape from the heartache and fractured reality. But it was never enough to erase the black, sagging circles that clung to his soul. With his sole purpose—his reason for existing, for living—now gone, he was utterly lost.