I indulge in imagining how the engines fail right after the take off and we crash into the ground. Even when I don’t feel depressed at that time of my life I keep thinking that during the take offs (I fly relatively often). It feels me with so much calm that I would die and that it would be out of my control. And that my close ones wouldn’t have to carry the burden that they would have to carry if I committed suicide. It’s the way depression changed me, that even when everything is going well for me and I’m happy, I still have that thought at the back of my mind. Anyone relates?