The Mask

Pretence plays a huge roll in my life now. Maybe if I can convince others that all is well then I'll, subliminally, unlock a path to calm and 'normality', what ever that is.
Even if that does not work for me, it's a roll I have to adopt for my family. My nightmare has become their nightmare and they need respite as much as me.
I can't find my own inner peace, but by stealth, false smiles, hidden tears and pretence I'm praying I can restore some normality to their lives. They don't deserve this. How long can I expect them to live a life of stress, worry and uncertainty?
They want the husband and father that led from the front and coped to re-emerge. Can roll-playing convince them (and me)...unlikely, but what's the alternative?
The mornings are the worse. The routine the same.
I awake to a morning cocktail of crushing chest palpitations, horrible, nervous stomach cramps (exam tummy) and a feeling of total dread. 
I know it's coming but it still frightens me. Every morning...every bloody morning. If my wife is beside me, I control the tears. If she's not,,,down they come.
Tears and me have become well acquainted since July 2008. Strange, before then we had barely acknowledged one another for the previous 35 years. We said hi big-time when my beautiful daughter was born 15 years ago and have been on nodding terms throughout her life, but nothing like the intensity of this current relationship.
Hiding in the dark calms me, but that reveals my state of mind to my wife and upsets her. I have let her down so badly, dismantled her life and dreams.  I have to put on the mask and try and convince her that I am on the mend. 
When my life was turned upside down back in 2008, I fell to pieces. That's not a particularly eloquent or scientifically medical term, but it's how I felt.
In a matter of hours, the confident, happy, energised, achiever who I looked at in the mirror each morning was gone. He hasn't been back since.
For six months I hid. The darkened room became my sanctuary, a foetal position my calm.
My wife saw all this every day, my daughter fleetingly. The mask was fixed in position whenever she returned from school, but she's no fool. She wanted her dad back and I couldn't find him for her.
They have both been so loving, giving and selfless it beggars belief...
But they are tired. I can see it in their eyes. They need me back and I want to be back. But fear is winning right now.
Fear wins when I awake.
Fear wins when I need to leave the bedroom to begin the day.
Fear wins when my family leave the house and I am consumed once again.
Fear wins when I turn my back on the day, pull the curtains and try to withdraw into TV movies that somehow offer me respite, albeit for a few hours. I need that calm, I need that rest.
Fear wins on finding a future. I am petrified that if I don't get myself well we will be crippled financially for ever. But that same fear is stopping me from finding a job, finding a future.
The ultimate Catch 22.