suicide.

I might have something psycholoically wrong with me.

When I'm driving on the freeway, or anywhere really--just as long as I'm going pretty fast, sometimes I get really nervous. My hands get clammy and my heart speeds up and I start to sweat and get the chills. Why? I'm scared.

I feel like I'm afraid of what I might do. Like I think, "If I just turn the wheel really sharply, I would die almost for sure. I could just turn the wheel really fast." And then I get scared, like I have no control over myself turning that wheel.

I don't feel suicidal, even though I am certainly making myself sound like I am. The thing is, I don't want to do it. But, my panic is a feeling of helplessness. Like there is no way I could stop it. Like the person who would do it wouldn't be me. And I am always keenly aware of these morbid thoughts--which of course makes me even more scared, like do I have some problem in my head? I mean, I don't want to be scared. I don't want to die.

I had a similar experience a few weeks ago. I was walking home and it was dark out. Probably about 11pm or so. I got to the foot bridge near Dinkytown and there were no people around. I stopped in the middle of the bridge. I looked over the edge and wondered if it was possible to survive jumping off. Enter, panic attack. "Oh no, what if I jump? Imagine, it would be students who would find me tomorrow morning.." Why would I jump? I don't want to jump! What is wrong with me??

Also, when I'm on the bus and just people-watching out the window, if I see people walking on bridges I get nervous and think, "Please don't jump off." It's like for some reason my mind is so entirely fucked up that I can't convince myself that normal people don't want to jump off bridges.

I've been carrying this mental disorder with me for quite some time, but I think I may be released.. or whatever.

My roommate and I randomly decided to have a bonding night (at like 3am..) by walking a pretty little 3 mile loop by the river. Pretty fun time (I love that girl =)).. but anyways, atop the Hennepin Ave bridge we came across flowers, a cross, some posters--a memorial for a woman who had died. She had died the day before. By jumping off that bridge we stood on.

Yesterday, long-run Sunday, brought me to the Ford Parkway bridge. At the center, I stopped and looked around. Breathtaking. Tears came to my eyes, but not for fear. I had never felt safer.