This heart of mine, resolved to live as though dead, was sometimes stirred to life by outside events. However, at the slightest thought of any initiative on my part, a dreadful force, appearing from who knows where, would seize my heart and pin it in place. This force, holding me tightly in its grasp, would berate me, telling me I was fit for nothing. Its rebuke was enough to instantly sap my will. In time, I would again try to rise, only to again be suppressed. I yelled in anger through clenched teeth, demanding to know by what right it held me in check. I was mocked in return by a chilling voice, reminding me that I already knew full well. My will again deserted me.
You should understand that even as we continued on in our quiet life, free from vicissitudes and complications, a bitter battle raged within me. For every time I upset my wife by letting it surface, I'd already upset myself a hundred times over. I realized, when I could no longer endure my personal prison, and when I knew I could never break out, that of the options before me, taking my own life was the only practicable choice. Don't let this shock you. That mysterious force, the force that gripped my heart and blocked my every endeavor, held open to me the path to my death. I could remain still, but if I chose to move, even a little, there was only this single path.