I have died, twice. My heart stopped during surgery two times. That was ten years ago after an accident. I have lost lots of people in my 33 years on earth. I have thought about suicide on so many occasions thinking I don’t belong here. Survivors guilt or something I guess... My 3 year old and wife have no idea how low I have felt. Every time I hit that low point again it’s always something so small that pulls me back. A hug from my daughter, seeing an old friend or even a good memory of a lost one. Depression isn’t easy, but I have found looking for any positive interaction with a loved one keeps me going. I hope once this corona shit is figured out I can get back to working on helping me again. But for now, I find that one kind and happy moment every day