100 Steps Up
Walking up the 100 steps to Mount Bonnell I noticed the bright lights of the sun peaking through the trees. Climbing in anticipation, anxiety crept into my soul.
“Am I ready for this?” I wondered as I climbed closer to the top.
My kids ran ahead filled with excitement! Being in the highest place in the city excited them! As for me, I am climbing up to make new memories in a place that holds memories of devastation, resentment, anger, and death. I’m not sure I want this now; the pain is to deep. As the top of the mount becomes more visible I realize I am not so sure anymore about being here. Visiting the place where I almost took my life had more of an effect on me than I realized.
The temperature is dropping as a cold front is blowing in. The wind howls as it blows the scarf from around my neck. My children are reminiscing times they came up here in the past. They brought a friend with them which was his first visit. They were showing him all their little spots they know of that brings them closer to the edge.
While they run around and explore I take a pic of myself in hopes it will help distract me from the sadness I feel. 
Trying to capture the height I attempted to include the water below while taking the picture. Everyone there was snapping pictures with their families. There were lots of people out of town who were new to the view of the mount. I watched as they walked to and from each view as they marveled at the site.
Place of Hurt
I wanted to visit the place where I stood. Intentionally, I wore the highest heal shoes I owned on the day I came here to do myself harm. In my emotional unstable mind I dressed in my best clothes. I put on makeup, I wore a tiara, I put on all my expensive jewelry. On my way there I sent out a text to a few people. My text was not direct. I was vague and figured if the person knew the area well that they could figure out where I was. In my opinion, if God wanted me alive; someone would figure the text out and find me before I jumped.
Selfish thinking, isn’t it? I had no idea the worry I was putting on people. All I could think about was ending my life and about my family being better off without me. Deep down I think I wanted someone to find me or I wouldn’t of wrote the text. If someone found me then maybe I had some value or worth to someone. For I had no value and worth for myself.
The Rocky Ledge
As I hiked in my high heals on the rocky terrain I found the spot. I couldn’t jump from where I stood or I would hit the rocks and brush. So I hiked down to the ledge you see in the picture. It was a steep hike and I’m surprised I did not fall trying to get down there in heals. I stood on the edge, arms open wide, eyes closed, thinking of the words “make me fly like a bird.” The wind blew through my hair as I wished it would sweep me off my feet down to the rocks below. Then my phone rang. I sat down as I looked to see who was ruining my end to my life. It was my husband calling. I just stared at it as it rang and rang. Then another call, my friend, I watched her name appear on the screen knowing full well if I answered I would be talked out of what I was about to do. Eventually, as I sat and fought the temptation to answer the calls, I picked up the phone to talk. I honestly can’t remember who I talked to. I do know it was someone who loved me. Soon, my husband found me. He showed up and sat down with me on the cliffs edge. Right away, the police showed up then I saw my friend who was there also. The police helped me back up the cliff. All I remember thinking was shame and disappointment. I failed. I can’t even take my own life.
Revisiting this cliff filled me with sadness. I mourned the girl who wanted to jump. I mourned the mother who was willing to leave her children behind. I mourned the wife who wanted to called it quits.
One Hundred steps it took as I climbed in defeat, ready to give it all up, ending my heartbeat.
One Hundred steps again as I climbed in success to bring new life and cover the wounds that had me in such strife.
Another one hundred steps it will take as the mourning comes to an end.
One hundred steps it will be till there is victory over the sin.
Such a wonderful story, Toni – Thank you for your honesty and openness. And I love the picture of yourself! Blessings and love!