The Leap, Part I

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I finally jumped. The only barrier was my truck door and a two-bar railing, but as soon as scrambled out the door I climbed over the bars, I took the leap without hesitation. The rest was slow motion. The ferry began to part ways with me as my body floated through the dark, brisk air. The last thing that caught my eye before the frigid waters claimed my body was two workers on the stern of the ferry. Did they see me? I sure hoped not! The freezing Puget Sound made itself known when I splashed into the sea. Joy came over me as I finally got what I wanted. The cold did bother me, but it would not be long before hypothermia would catch on and I would soon fall asleep to my ultimate destination. I watched as the ferry continued to sail away, so apparently, I did not catch anyone’s attention. That was okay because they would soon realize that I was gone when my red pickup was still on the boat while everyone drove away. I left the door unlocked, the keys in the ignition, and a note to let them know the owner was no longer with it and that they could easily drive it off.

About eleven months before that fateful leap, my life had begun to end. My mind was beginning to play tricks on me as my return to ship life on a United States naval vessel kept me up long hours with strenuous work and a lot to study. This was the beginning of a manic phase. Mania is a phase that causes great euphoria in the mind. One with this experience begins to think highly of themselves, almost as if they were something special. Creativity is certainly abundant and one with mania can find themself doing great things. For example, with me, I started a profitable tutoring business while at school, went from medium distance runner to marathoner in just a month, or became the stellar surface warfare officer who needed not a bit of sleep during the rigorous deployment schedule. Unfortunately, mania can cause destructive tendencies, as well.

In my case, it started out with me being carried out of a bar. I decided that a bouncer was in between me and a buddy that I was looking for during closing time and I defied his warning because I was better than him. Soon afterwards, I started an intimate relationship with a co-worker who happened to be a lot of fun, but going through some stressful times herself. This would not seem to be a big deal, but I was married and had two young children. But I deserved the satisfaction and could not be stopped. On top of that, I still bought a house even though everything inside of me and everyone that truly cared for me warned me it was a horrible idea. This is a fact that still haunts me to this very day.

It was not long until my wife found out about the extra-marital affair. I did not believe she would notice due to her obsession with remodeling the new home, but she decided to search my things knowing that something seemed wrong with me and came across photos my girl had sent me. This spelled the beginning of the end in our marriage. When my first comment was, “This is it, Erin,” her anger turned to disbelief and she begged to work things out. However, I thought to myself that there was no compassionate love for my wife in the five years we were married. It was time to let this go.

Unfortunately, the mania did not end there. My image as an upstanding Christian was coming to a close with the divorce and this devastated me. Instead of talking to people who cared for me, I ran to those who wanted to party and feed my destructive frenzy. The affair continued and another encounter with a woman friend in my life also took place. I began to drink excessively and got into a bit of trouble in bars the next few weeks. One day, I was driving to work and it came across my mind that I did not want to go, but that I should just keep driving north. Continuous driving always got to me in stages of mania, but this would catch the eyes of the Navy, an organization I felt extremely proud to be a part of. I drove until I grew tired. A rest stop came up and I pulled over and fell asleep. Soon I woke up and saw that my phone was off the hook as co-workers were trying to locate me. This was the first time I overtly let the service down and I freaked out. Instead of going back to my ship, I went to my girlfriend’s house and began drinking again. In my drunken state, I sent odd texts to friends who caught wind of where I was and brought me back to the ship that night. I chose humor instead of fear as I approached the vessel that evening, but that day would land me in alcohol rehabilitation and soon became the catalyst to the end of my career.

At that point in my life, my marriage was gone, my children were states away, I had disappointed many friends and family, and my career was in jeopardy. I will never forget the last words my commanding officer said before I departed my ship for rehab – “I am disappointed in you.” My life was a disappointment in my eyes and I would feel that way as I struggled with my career and dissipating family the next six months. Sure, I had fun and tried to have adventures as a single man again, but the words of my captain rang through my head time and time again.

During rehab, it was determined that alcoholism did not cause my inappropriate behavior, but instead, something else had led me to alcohol. My first day out of the facility, I sat with a psychiatrist for two hours who thoroughly analyzed my thick medical record and finally diagnosed me with Bipolar I Disorder. He also claimed I was fit to work out to sea, but the ship thought otherwise. So instead, I was stuck believing I belonged out to sea but was stricken with a disease that would not allow for it.
This would bother me continually. One of the main reasons I was told ship life was no longer for me was because medication management would be too difficult in the hectic life of a surface warrior. At the time, I was on lithium and hated the cramping it caused anyway, so I became resistant to taking it most times. Eventually, I was not taking it at all.

And that is what led to this fateful October night under the clear, brisk and starry night. Because I was not consistent with my medication, my mind went into a tailspin into something far more dangerous than mania or depression – a mixed episode. A mixed episode is a combination of mania and depression. One may be too depressed to want to do anything but too manic to go to sleep. My thoughts were extremely dark due to depression and my motivation to do something about it was very high due to mania.

I drove to the ferry terminal to finally do what I had attempted several times before. There were moments I had stood over a high bridge ready to jump, including one time where I climbed over the railing. Another where I doused myself in so many pills, I was sure to go; instead, I ended up with a stomach ache I had to explain away so that no one would know what I really had done. This time was going to be for real, though. I had jumped into water before, so I knew I was capable of that action. And cold water may be uncomfortable and drowning a bit scary, but something felt good about allowing the sea to take me.

To be sure I could not save myself, I put half a fifth of Jack Daniels in a water bottle ready to drink when I drove onto the ferry and when I was in the water. I also brought a handful of Nyquil pills to take before the leap so that I would soon be sedated and have no choice.

My red pickup finally rolled onto the ferry and to a stop in line with cars on the port side of the vessel. I looked over to my left to see that beyond my door was only a railing between me and my fate. Doing nautical math, I knew I needed to wait around ten minutes to make it impossible for me to swim back, so to pass the time, I began writing my short note telling those I love that I was sorry and instructing the workers to just drive the pickup off as the owner would not be returning. Then, I took the Nyquil tablets and choked them down with the sharp stinging taste of bourbon.

I looked at the digital clock on my truck radio and saw that I had two more minutes then turned to the left where the water was beckoning telling me that I was ready. My eyes closed and my heart pounded as my words to myself became, “You will finally be at peace.” My eyes opened and the clock revealed one minute to go. I laid my phone in the passenger seat and made sure the keys were still in the ignition. Slowly, my hand jarred the squeaky driver-side door open but everything up to the leap went by rather fast, as I quickly climbed the railing and, without hesitation, finally did it.

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