When I got stranded in snow and thought I was going to die, in late 2016, I promised myself if I ever make it down alive I’d live a life without regrets.
But when I made it back home instead of living a full life, I spiraled into my worst state of depression and about to hit rock bottom.
Hopeless and desperate I gave myself a shot and committed to change – but if it didn’t work I was allowed to kill myself.
But now, I was nothing but a visually impaired, broke hobo with a fractured skull with a bleak future. But what’s next?

It hadn’t occurred to me that to the outside world I was an exclamation point or a question mark. To many I was the poor unlucky guy at work, who suddenly felt dizzy, fell and hit the head, among many things, on a screw – now on a wheelchair, head wrapped in bandage, IV wires dangling and gawd-knows-what-else.