Standing on the edge of the diving board

I have been standing on a metaphorical high dive for the past few years. And I am scared of heights.  You may ask why. Because I am here and although I am in fear and uncomfortable I don’t know how to get down. But maybe I’ll enjoy the pool once I hit the water. Or maybe not, but if I at least jump, I can climb the ladder on the side of the pool and climb out. Or swim across to the shallow end and walk up the stairs. I don’t have to be stuck on the diving board or even in the pool.  But I have been paralyzed for quite a while. I know what the view is from the diving board and even if I don’t like the view or the feeling standing up here, there is something bizarrely comforting about not taking any risks.

When I think of my life and certain situations, it seems a little silly. My mental health is deserving of me taking the risk and jumping. So many people have been coaxing me to trust in my ability to swim and know that the fear of leaping through the air will be short lived. And I may really enjoy where I land. And it might not only help my quality of life and mental health, but I may find much more enjoyment. Luckily I am learning, albeit slowly, that I have friends who are willing to be there to help me once I hit the water. I’ve been waiting for someone to climb the ladder and hold my hand so I don’t have to jump alone, but I am realizing that that is never going to happen. It can’t. I have to commit and jump. And I think that after the last person encouraged me last night - and offered to swim alongside me - I might actually be ready.

I know that I am being cryptic, and I am ok with this. So stay tuned and know that I am getting ready to stand back up and keep fighting. As soon as some more of my tears subside. A little hope is coming back. And I am realizing the high dive is not the place for me. Taking risks - here I come!