Hi all, just finished watching a film where a character ate a bunch of pills and downed it with some alcohol only to later awaken in the hospital, and I'll be damned if it didn't give me goosebumps of the good variety. I recently had a suicide attempt where CPR had to be performed and I distinctly remember fading away and being reluctantly brought back, it was quite a beautiful experience for me and one I have been playing endlessly through my head since. Back to the film, the scene made me realize I'm just going to try this again, third times a charm anyway right? Why should I deny myself such a wonderful self-induced moment while reality provides me with nothing but this great obsession of another inevitable attempt? Do any of you feel like you're addicted to that feeling that comes over you the second after it's "too late" to turn back and death is certain?