Dave wakes up to the monotonous beeping of his alarm clock, the sound piercing through the thick veil of exhaustion that envelops him. This was confirmation. Confirmation that another day, another performance, awaits. The sunlight streams in through the curtains, casting a warm glow across his room, but the real warmth Dave is looking for, he does not feel.
Daves showers in the lukewarm water, the sting a welcome jolt. In the mirror, his reflection looks passable. A tired smile plays on his lips, a habit from years of being customer-facing and leading a high-performing team. He shaves meticulously, erasing the faint lines etched around his eyes, the ones that spoke of sleepless nights. His job demands his attention, but his heart isn't in it anymore. Each day feels like a battle against an invisible enemy, one that no one else can see. He forces a smile onto his face as he leaves his large house in a gated community, and says goodbye to his kids and wife, the weight of his invisible burden drags him down.
The streets bustle with life as Dave makes his way to the office. People rush past him, lost in their own worlds, their laughter echoing in his ears like a distant memory. He watches them with envy, wondering what it would be like to feel that lightness of being again. But for him, the world is a gray and lifeless place, devoid of joy or meaning.
At work, Dave immerses himself in strategy meetings and customer calls, the familiar rhythm of leading and making customers happy, a temporary distraction from the emptiness gnawing at his soul. Dave excels at these, his calm demeanor masking the turmoil within. In the breakroom, he cracks jokes, provides wisdom to younger employees and seemingly is the life of the party. Dave is known as one of the highest performers at work, funniest, and most likable. No one suspects the storm raging inside him, the silent screams that echo in the chambers of his mind.
Lunch is a solitary affair. He eats a pre-made salad, the plastic container crinkling in his hand. The taste of food is as bland as the conversations around him. He scrolls through his phone, a ghost of a smile flickering on his lips as he "liked" his wife’s post-workout selfie. The irony feels bitter. Here he is drowning in his own silence, while she broadcasts her life to the world.
The afternoon brings a flood of emails and calls. Each interaction is a small performance – a display of helpfulness masking a growing desperation. Dave feels like a juggler, keeping an increasing number of balls in the air while the ground beneath him threatens to crumble. The afternoon drags on, each passing moment stretching into eternity. Dave’s eyes grow heavy with fatigue, but sleep eludes him like a distant dream. He longs for the oblivion of unconsciousness, the temporary respite from the torment of his own mind. But even in his dreams, the darkness follows him like a shadow, a constant reminder of his own insignificance.
The looming sales target for the end of the quarter is a physical weight on his chest. He pours himself into his work, the familiar numbers offering a semblance of control. But the numbers hold no solace today. They are just another reminder of his only worth to his employer.
He reaches for his phone, fingers hovering over his wife’s name. He wants to tell her, to unload the burden, but the familiar fear holds him back. What if she doesn’t understand? What if his crumbling world shatters theirs too?
He dials a different number, one he hasn’t used in years. His brother's voicemail picks up, the cheery greeting a stark contrast to Dave’s mood. "Hey, it's Dave. Just… checking in. Call me back if you get this." He hangs up, a flicker of hope battling the crushing weight of disappointment.
He drives home with the city lights a blurry smear through his windshield. The silence is deafening. The neatly kept house, once a source of pride, felt like a museum display of a life that wasn’t quite his own anymore.
His wife is already home, a takeout container on the coffee table. She looks up, her smile faltering slightly. "Hey, you're late." It wasn't a question, just an observation.
Dave forces a smile. "Traffic was bad." He sat down opposite her, the container untouched.
"Everything okay?" The concern in her eyes chipped away at the wall he'd built.
He starts to speak, the words forming on his tongue, but then retreats. "Yeah, just tired." It sounds pathetic, even to his own ears.
Silence fills the room again, this time a heavy, uncomfortable weight. His wife sighs, pushing the untouched takeout towards him. "You barely ate lunch, did you?"
He shakes his head, the lie sticks in his throat.
She reaches across the table, her hand hovering over his. He wants to reach out, to connect, but his hand remains clenched in his lap. The moment passes. She pulls her hand back, a flicker of sadness in her eyes.
Dave now gets ready for bed with the reminder that tomorrow will be Groundhog Day and that he must continue to keep up this illusion, this facade that he is strong, he is a leader, and he is likable. Because that’s what society says I am supposed to do, it’s what society expects of me, right?
“Hey I may need some help or guidance"
I wrote this story intentionally in the present tense as hundreds of thousands (if not more) of men are going through this same reality in real-time. To some degree, I was Dave at one point in my life and there are many men in our society today that can relate to Dave’s story.
In a world where vulnerability is often equated with weakness, many men find themselves trapped in a cycle of suffering in silence. Men suffer in silence for a complex mix of social and personal reasons. There are so many traditional ideas of what masculinity is supposed to look like. We are supposed to be stoic, strong, and unemotional. So many of us feel that if we were to be vulnerable or maybe raise our hand and say “Hey I may need some help or guidance” we would be seen as weak. The first term that comes to mind is “Hey be a man”. This has had a damning effect on so many men and still does to this day.
We need to start to normalize being open. Open with others and with ourselves. And maybe just maybe start to challenge these traditional stereotypes. As a collective, we can start to dispel the myth that strength means holding our emotions inside. I think we can all agree that true strength lies in self-awareness and seeking some help when it’s needed.
So many of us seem to have it all together or if you look at our lives on paper, you'd think “we'd made it”. but the truth is there's so much beneath the surface, so much that is hidden from the human eye, so much that needs to be resolved, so much that needs to be sorted out, so much that needs to be expressed, so much that needs to be untangled, and sometimes it’s just simple things that need to be talked out.
As men, let's commit to helping ourselves solve the mental and physical health equation for us who are suffering in silence due to the stringent demands of society, the workplace, marriage, family, fatherhood, and constant social commitments. We as men need to learn to be vulnerable with ourselves and others so that we can regain our health and vitality to show up in every aspect of life at a much higher frequency. Not only does every man and their loved ones benefit, but the world benefits from this and needs more strong leaders, husbands, and fathers.
