You're on a boat rowing it down a beautiful stream. There are no hurdles in your way. The wind blowing exactly how you want it to. And the flow is good enough to take you to the other end. Everything's going just fine but then gradually you notice that things start turning against you. And it does not take long for those little mishaps to turn into a violent storm.
You begin to lose hope at a rapid pace, thinking that your little boat is about to fall a prey to the might of the water. You're caught up in a whirlpool that is pulling you in with each passing second. You rattle. Struggle. Shout for help, but the turbulence is too much to handle.
Your breath becomes heavy. Your vision, blurry. Voice turned into a series of silent screams. And your mind, a complete mess of thoughts, which only include the negative ones; as if there's a filter attached to it. It is the time when you find the weight of the razor blade lying at the bathroom slab way lighter than the oars to row you to the other side. When you start feeling that the peace death can give you is far better than the chaos this storm has created. You forget every good thing that happened to you. Every miracle that came across.
But when you're ready to slit your wrists. To consume that poison. When you have surrendered yourself to the infinite, growling water, remember the people to whom you mean the world. Try and estimate the void you will create in their lives, just because of some trivial issues. Remind yourself that you know how to swim. Or at least hold on to the boat for a little while and wait for the storm to subside. Remember that it is never too late. Remember that life is precious and all you need is some endurance and a little hope to cling on to until things return to normalcy. Believe in the fact that everything gets better with time because it does.