My name is Viktor. At November 12, 1999, at the age of 30, I seemed to have it all: a good education, a rewarding job, close friends, and an active social life. Not too bad looking, I kept myself in shape; enjoyed my running and swimming. But appearances can be deceiving: no one would ever have guessed that my life had long been seriously blighted by panic attacks and bouts of severe depression. So on that same day, I threw myself under a train. I wanted to kill myself. Thus, I have lost both of my legs. Now I am in a wheelchair.