Sometimes I remember who I used to be years ago. Confident. Joyful. Free. But that person killed every good thing that was inside me. And now I feel incapable of joy. My therapist reassures me that it will come back. My wife says that I’m just going through a rough patch. But I know the truth: I will never be the enthusiastic, loving, joyful woman that I used to be. I’m just waiting for my life to naturally end so that I can finally be at peace.