Bleeding Out: A Modern Fable

In a sleek high-rise in the heart of the city, there lived a man named Daniel. He was successful by all outward measures—a well-paying job, a luxury apartment, and a busy social calendar. But beneath the surface, he carried invisible wounds: stress that gnawed at him, insecurities that whispered in his ear, and a loneliness that never quite went away.

Whenever he felt the sting of failure—a missed promotion, a strained friendship, a lingering regret—he did what many do: he distracted himself. He worked longer hours, scrolled endlessly through his phone, drank a little more than he should. At first, these small numbing habits helped. But the pain never really went away; it just festered.

So he scratched at it harder. He took on more projects, stayed later at the office, filled his calendar until there was no room left to breathe. The more he ignored the real problem, the worse it became. His health suffered. His relationships frayed. Still, he refused to stop—because stopping meant facing what hurt.

One day, exhausted and hollow, he made a drastic decision. He quit his job, cut off everyone who cared about him, and retreated into isolation. "If I remove everything that could hurt me," he reasoned, "I’ll finally be at peace."

But peace never came. Instead, he found himself emptier than before—a man who had carved away so much of himself that there was almost nothing left.

And then, one quiet evening, he realized too late: he had bled himself dry.