Steve was a 52 year old successful executive who looked downtrodden entering my office. He’d come reluctantly, and only because his wife insisted he “see someone.”

“She says I’m not living my life anymore,” he told me.

When asked what was going on, Steve said two years earlier, his dog of 14 years had died. His two kids were now out of the house, living on their own. His wife began teaching history at a community college, and he felt lonely, isolated and demoralized. “I don’t look forward to much,” he said, and added, “And don’t even think of prescribing pills for me because I’m not a pill-taker.”

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