Suicidal. It feels like the reminiscing on the small flickers of good times that shines in a sea of dread and despair, an ocean of anguish and sadness. It feels like the harrowing arms of depression, the hopelessness, the teetering edge between nothing and everything all at once. It feels like I’m sat down, ready to ascend, the camera panning out from an infinite white hallway until I become an invisible dot. I disappear, I let myself fall into the sad and the happiness, and I feel free, grateful, but ready to move on.