I've jumped from bridges for fun. Nothing over 40 feet. I'd never jump from the Golden Gate Bridge, although I have contemplated suicide occasionally without ever having a real plan as to the method. Guess I'm lucky that way.
Back when I was in high school my friend's mother attempted suicide off the Tobin Bridge in Boston three times. Always on a Friday. Always in the rain. Always at the end of the day. Traffic would back up on the feeder roads for miles, as the police tried to dissuade the woman from taking a fatal plunge. Finally her husband would show up to add his pleas to the rescue and my friend's mother would take one look at him and jump off the walkway.
The first time she survived the leap and her family put the poor woman into a mental hospital. After many months she would be released under a doctor's supervision. We would see her in the yard. She seemed normal and then one rainy Friday afternoon she went intown to the Tobin Bridge. Same spot as before. Traffic was snarled in all directions. The police begged her to come down and once her husband appeared, she once more stepped off the bridge as soon as she saw her husband.
She survived a second time, although her stay in the hospital was much longer because of injuries and screwing her head on straight. Months went by before she was released from state care. She seemed normal as before, until another rainy Friday afternoon. Once more she waited for her husband before jumping.
This time she was successful, because she struck a police boat instead of the water.
As far as I know the woman never left a note.
I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge last Friday. It was a beautiful day. I let the wind wash my soul. All I could do afterward was smile and this is my non-suicide note from that bridge. I lived for another day and that day is a long way from tomorrow.
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