Suicide was at the End of my Rainbow: For those with suicidal ideations and suicide attempts

August two-thousand sixteen. Nothing spectacular about this month; nothing out of the ordinary. But for me, Brittany M. Tucker, it was the beginning of what felt like a hellish joke. A seed given directly from Satan. I was battling suicidal ideations, and even went on to attempt it; twice. From July to February of the following year, I was bent on finding a way to happiness and freedom. I was running from doubt, hopelessness, agitation, self-hate, irritability, embarrassment, and self-loathing. I didn't see an end to my troubles, or a patch for my wounds. All I saw was more failure, more sickness, more regret, and no hope. I did not want to live anymore. I did not want to smell the sunflowers a final time, I didn't want to eat pizza one last time, and I surely didn't want to hug my parents one last time. I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to cease to exist. This intensely, and sometimes inappropriately, detailed work, follows my path from suicidality to ever changing mood