At 24 I had a midlife crisis.
At 24 I had a midlife crisis. I was depressed but with no vocabulary to describe the thoughts and feelings in my head. My drinking was at a level that had long been problematic for all involved, but I was blind to it. My relationships had all deteriorated to the point of being nonexistent. I had been fired from my job and blown numerous opportunties that had been afforded to me throughout my life. So I walked out of my apartment, found a bridge over the highway and lifted one leg over the railing. As I straddled the railing and watched the traffic underneath, I chickened out. I'd lost yet another battle with the fear that had gripped me for decades. The next day, I called a trusted friend, went to a twelve step meeting, and soon had a therapist and medication. That was 2,244 days ago. I's been a hard road, full of love, loss, highs, lows, and everything in between. But here I am. 31. Alive. It's a miracle.