Bull Markets and Zombie Hearts

The corporate retreat had all the makings of a nightmare, yet here I was, forty-seven years old and pretending to enjoy myself. The bull—our CEO, Marcus—had already delivered three hours of inspirational nonsense about synergy and disruption. His massive head bobbed as he spoke, spittle flying like verbal shrapnel.

"You're not just employees," Marcus bellowed. "You're warriors."

I felt like a zombie going through the motions, my soul hollowed out by two decades of navigating office politics. My phone buzzed—Sarah, my wife. Again. We'd been fighting since I forgot our anniversary last month. Again.

I found myself at the resort pool at midnight, swimming laps in the dark water. The silence was a relief. No motivational speeches, no expectations, just the rhythm of my body cutting through black water. My marriage felt like this pool—deep, dark, and increasingly impossible to navigate.

Morning brought padel tournament with colleagues. Sarah's text: "We need to talk." The ball smacked against the glass walls, echoing like gunshots in my chest. Marcus played with aggressive intensity, sweating profusely, still lecturing between points about market dominance.

"You've got bull instincts, Tom!" he shouted when I finally smashed a winner. "That's what made you VP of Sales."

Bull instincts. That's what destroyed my marriage—my relentless drive, my inability to be present, my transformation into something unrecognizable. Sarah hadn't signed up for a zombie.

At the farewell dinner, I picked at spinach salad, the irony bitter on my tongue. Always healthy choices, always doing the right thing. Yet here I was, successful by every metric, completely hollow inside.

Marcus toasted to "another record year." The room erupted in applause. I swirled my wine, watching crimson droplets stain the crystal. Tomorrow I'd return to my empty house, Sarah's boxes likely gone. I'd achieved everything I'd worked for since college, and I'd never felt more dead.

The bull market had made me rich, but somewhere along the way, I'd become exactly what I never wanted to be.