The Will
The Will
When I stumbled upon it, I wasn't quite aware of the footage it obtained. That was until a seemingly quiet, beautiful view of San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge turned into a jumping ledge for a man, just a normal-looking man, and depicted his end.
I remember being completely stunned. A catatonic state.
I fought against picking some other documentary to watch and my strong desire to know what story the filmmakers were wanting to tell.
I fought back tears, continuing to watch.
I thought of the fear those people must have held for those seconds of making the decision and drifting into a body of water that held unknown futures for them.
I felt that fear creeping in me with the thought that there was no way I could ever do that; that route was terrifying.
But I guess the story that really stuck with me were the survivors.
A man spoke of his regret as he rushed toward the chilling water, mid-air.
He was regretful the second he made the decision.
When I found the will to live, I hadn't made a decision.
My fate landed in the mishap of my wheel hitting a slick spot on I-65 South bound.
I had dreamed of me losing control behind a wheel.
I had dreamed of the car I was in spinning out of control just weeks before, only I was a passenger. Not the driver.
I never figured out how my dream was supposed to end.
I woke myself up before I could find out.
I didn't want to know.
But I knew what regret the survivor from the bridge was talking about.
At least, I came to know it those few seconds my car glided across those lanes, open season and a vehicular weapon to oncoming traffic.
It wasn't regret of what I hadn't done or had.
It was regret that I didn't even know at the time that I would have; it was all subconsciously.
Me pulling the steering wheel and watching out my driver's side window so I could brace myself for the impact of a school bus was so that I could live and prevent from wiping anyone else out with me.
I know I'll keep asking myself how and why did I survive.
I'll keep asking how was it possible to veer across five lanes and not be struck, or for me to not have struck anyone else.
I'll keep asking, though the answers are clear.
It was no one but God, and He must not be through with me yet.
I hope this can forever serve, no matter how dark my days can become, as a reminder that I do have a will to live. And anyone else out there that feels like ever giving up, continue to fight.
By Shaire Blythe
Monday, July 10, 2017
I found I have the will to live.
When the moment hit
me, I was reminded of this documentary I watched called The Bridge.Monday, July 10, 2017
I found I have the will to live.
When I stumbled upon it, I wasn't quite aware of the footage it obtained. That was until a seemingly quiet, beautiful view of San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge turned into a jumping ledge for a man, just a normal-looking man, and depicted his end.
I remember being completely stunned. A catatonic state.
I fought against picking some other documentary to watch and my strong desire to know what story the filmmakers were wanting to tell.
I fought back tears, continuing to watch.
I thought of the fear those people must have held for those seconds of making the decision and drifting into a body of water that held unknown futures for them.
I felt that fear creeping in me with the thought that there was no way I could ever do that; that route was terrifying.
But I guess the story that really stuck with me were the survivors.
A man spoke of his regret as he rushed toward the chilling water, mid-air.
He was regretful the second he made the decision.
When I found the will to live, I hadn't made a decision.
My fate landed in the mishap of my wheel hitting a slick spot on I-65 South bound.
I had dreamed of me losing control behind a wheel.
I had dreamed of the car I was in spinning out of control just weeks before, only I was a passenger. Not the driver.
I never figured out how my dream was supposed to end.
I woke myself up before I could find out.
I didn't want to know.
But I knew what regret the survivor from the bridge was talking about.
At least, I came to know it those few seconds my car glided across those lanes, open season and a vehicular weapon to oncoming traffic.
It wasn't regret of what I hadn't done or had.
It was regret that I didn't even know at the time that I would have; it was all subconsciously.
Me pulling the steering wheel and watching out my driver's side window so I could brace myself for the impact of a school bus was so that I could live and prevent from wiping anyone else out with me.
I know I'll keep asking myself how and why did I survive.
I'll keep asking how was it possible to veer across five lanes and not be struck, or for me to not have struck anyone else.
I'll keep asking, though the answers are clear.
It was no one but God, and He must not be through with me yet.
I hope this can forever serve, no matter how dark my days can become, as a reminder that I do have a will to live. And anyone else out there that feels like ever giving up, continue to fight.
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