My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it.

“I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this,” I think to myself. “Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why am I always getting myself into things that scare me so much?”

I’m holding down the vomit I feel coming. My stomach is a fluttering kaleidoscope of butterflies. I feel myself shiver and shake with a mix of the frosty afternoon air, and the pure horror of the high fall I will be jumping off in a short amount of time.

“Dianne, it’s your turn!!” The excited, yet surprisingly active and fit, middle aged lady called. My heart sinks. That’s my name.

I waddle over to the edge. I get the final safety rope attached to my harness and prepare for the jump.

“One, two…” the lady says. I inhale. I close my eyes and think of all the little things I was scared of as a child, and compare them to what I’m doing now. Time seems to slow down. I feel an awkward kind of calm and gratitude.

“Three!” She finally says as I’m gently pushed over the edge. Soaring through the air, I feel alive.

Then I hear the rope crackle. *crack, crack…snap!*

Suddenly, I don’t feel so alive anymore…