Spots of light flash before him and he tries to blink them away, but every time he opens his eyes, there they are; white and red and black and red again. The tiles of the bathroom floor are cold beneath him but, every time he tries to stand, his bare feet slip and slide. So he lies and stares down at the mess he's made, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks when the severity of what he's done sinks in.
He's never talked to anyone about this, about the way he feels sometimes. About how sometimes he feels so sad that he doesn't want to live anymore. And he doesn't understand it, because he really does love his life. He has family who love and support him, he has the best mates he could ever hope for, and he knows just how lucky he is to get to do what he does for a living. Yet there are days he wakes up in the morning and it's all he can do to get out of bed.
He's good at hiding it, though he's a far better actor than he's ever given himself credit for because he's pretty sure not a single person has noticed. Most of the time he hides his sadness by laughing at things that aren't even funny, just so he seems happy....