Hard to describe

  May 9th, 2008 by daerp

I notice that another writer is only 13. I am 60 years old (more than 4 times your age) and have been suicidal in various levels of intensity for the past 3.5 years. Lately I came finally to the realization that I am a jumper. I want to climb a 50 storey building (near our home) which is still under construction. I want to break through late night security. I want to climb all the way to the top. I can feel the air, and I can see the security lights on throughout the as yet unopened building. The smell of wet concrete. The air as clean and fresh as can be. I imagine my climb (I think about it obsessively every day) would involve a few scraped knuckles or knees on the way up. Nothing of consequence. My heart would be beating faster and faster.
My motivation is to step out into the cold night air. Eyes closed. Feeling an end over end disorientation. My fear of heights immediately erased. Nothing to fear anymore. No consequences. And as the wind fills my ears with thundering rushes of air, I keep my eyes closed and wait for the moment of extreme/ecstatic release. I imagine a bare fraction of a second of awareness I have hit the ground. But after that….nothing but quiet. Nothing but drifting from thought to thought. Or no thoughts at all. No pain, no fear. A new dimension or nothing. It will be what it is.
In any event, I have one last hope: and that is that I will experience being held by the delicate wings of angels.

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