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One lucky Motherf***er

Guest Author: Melissa

This content contains explicit and sensitive information that may not be suitable for all ages.

Today is a great day to tell my story.  

It is Thanksgiving and I am grateful for this life!  I don’t know if it was because of watching “13 Reasons Why” or hearing about the passing of Amy Bleuel, but I have felt compelled to tell my story recently.  Perhaps, it was hearing about Michael’s story and the SickNotWeak network.  

It is time and I am ready now.  

I had my first suicidal thoughts at the age of 11 and this continued on until my greatest failure … jumping over the Devil’s Punch Bowl on August 23, 1996 at the age of 20 and surviving the +120’ fall.

I always tell people that I am one lucky motherfucker.

I had suffered from mild depression from the age of 11 until 20.  I tried to cut my wrist, take a bottle of acetaminophen and dark thoughts entered my mind of jumping off of the Devil’s Punch Bowl then.  It wasn’t until I lost my scholarship from the government of Canada, wasn’t happy in my relationship, and just felt like I couldn’t continue any longer that I decided to jump.

It was August 23, 1996.  I had spent my last days with my cousins and felt like they were my siblings, as I am an only child.  I originally wanted to do the deed in the morning, but opted to spend my last day with them and take my cousin Joe to his baseball game.  I remember telling him that I loved him and to take care.  He nodded and I left.

I always tell people that I am one lucky motherfucker and I know this.  I jumped in the early evening and don’t remember anything.  I woke up in the hospital with a broken neck, back, shattered tailbone, the right-side of my face bashed in, my left lung had collapsed, my right lung was punctured and my small intestine was bleeding.  

My saving grace was two brothers who went deep into the forest to smoke a joint.  The rescue team and the brothers ended up getting a rash from the poison ivy.  I had my first helicopter ride and don’t even remember it.

I had been out of it for about a week and a half.  My mother fought not to have me operated on, as I was just 20 years old.  The doctor agreed and suggested a soft halo vest, which I was in for about two-and-a-half-months.  I went home after just two-and-a-half-weeks to let everything really sink in.

I am in a better place now and have no regrets.

After my physical recovery, we worked on my mental state.  I am in a better place now and have no regrets.  I am a survivor.  In 2010 I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, which explains a lot, but that is another story.

I will not lie, there are times when I still get down, but I know and try real hard not to go back to that dark place.  If there is ever a next time, I will go to West 5th and Fennell for a 30-day evaluation and I do not want that.  I know it wasn’t my time and I cannot say when I will leave this earth.  I have too much to live for.

My story could have ended differently.  I could have been paralyzed or worse, dead; I am grateful for this life and try to live everyday to the fullest.

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