There are patterns to life... Rhythms. It is so easy, while trapped in just the one life, to imagine that times of sadness or tragedy or failure or fear are a result of that particular existence. That it is a by-product of living a certain way, rather than simply living. I mean, it would have made things a lot easier if we understood there was no way of living that can immunise you against sadness.
A young woman with more regrets than she can easily keep track of, the bulk of which seem to be not fulfilling others' dreams for her, snaps under the weight of her burdens and tries to kill herself. She winds up not quite dead and being given the opportunity to see what her life would have looked like had she made other choices only to discover that she does make a difference, and that the life she tried to escape is the one she wants.