You are the one who holds it together. At work, at home, at church. Everybody has quietly decided that means there is nothing to ask you about, and by now you would not know how to answer if they did.

These are ten of the questions I ask a man when he sits down in front of me. There is no score, no report and nothing to send back to me. You answer them on paper, on your own, and for most men that is the first time the thing has ever existed outside their head.

• You put it into words. The thing you have been carrying stops being a feeling and becomes a sentence.
• You find out how long it has actually been going on. Almost every man gets that number wrong, and it is always longer.
• You see what it is costing. In real things. Sleep, temper, your wife, the years.
• You finish with one sentence you can say to one person this week. That is the whole exercise, and it is the part that changes something.

No newsletter and no sharing. A handful of short emails over two weeks, and one tap stops them.