On Jumping

Back when I was IP, there was an outing we did called the Ropes Course. It was active, experiential therapy that forced us to go outside our comfort zone, just as recovering from an ED requires us to do the same.

I’ve been there several times, and actually enjoy the hell out of myself every time I go – I luuurve me the thrill. But the first time I ever went, I think, made the strongest impact on me, because I was new to treatment and metaphorical niceties sat with me better, because I wasn’t so jaded, and, frankly, bored.

I remember that they strapped a helmet on me and told me to put on a harness that made me look like I had junk and I swear I was so nervous because it made me look like I had a big butt (body image issues preoccupy one’s mind with the most wasteful of thoughts). First, all I had to do was climb the tree, and really that wasn’t too hard, just don’t look down, keep going, up, up, up, until finally, I reach the platform that was just big enough for both my feet to fit on it.

Woah, this is high. What did the instructor say? Two stories high? Yeah, woah, don’t look down, I wanna throw up, crap how am I gonna get down wait you want me to jump are you insane?? Yes I see the trapeze in front of me, (you IDIOT) but it’s like, what, 6, 8 feet away? Wait let me get this straight you want me to jump off a platform that is two stories off the ground and reach for a trapeze that is entirely too far for me to reach? Okay, so yeah, this sucks.

And the instructor says, “You’re paralyzed with fear, and you’re stuck in this horrible, scary place. So get out of it. Get out of this situation you’ve put yourself in. Jump. Jump to a new life, jump from your fears, your eating disorder, the scary, small place you’ve trapped yourself in. Jump, and be free; jump to your new life.”

So then, I get a little jazzed by his impressive speech, and think yes yes YES I can do this! So I bend my legs, tense my body to spring. And then…I look down. And see how very far away from safety I am. I think that I would rather be up here, alone, miserable, but at least surviving, then potentially springing to a bloody death, right? And if not death, at least a very scary unknown, for sure. And as impossible as it sounds, that terrifying little platform starts to get comfortable, and I hate being up here but I reason that at least, for the moment, I'm safe, right?

So I falter. Wait, just kidding, sorry, I swear I’m going to go, I just need a second, give me one more second, woah this is high, yeah sorry I know I know I’m going to jump in like two seconds CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME ANOTHER SECOND? Geez!

And…on my own timeline, I could never jump. I would always wait for another second, until it reached another minute, then two, then three. It was so easy, too easy to find reasons to not jump: I’m scared, what if I can’t do it, what if what if what if.

So finally, the instructor forces his timeline upon me. He says, “Brie, I know you wanna jump, but you’re scared, so I’m going to help you. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re NOT going to look down. You’re going to stare straight ahead, at your goal: the trapeze in front of you. You’re going to listen to me count to five, and when I finish counting, I want you to jump. I don’t want you to think about how freaking scared you are. I don’t want you to think of anything other than jumping. You’re safe. I won’t let you get hurt. You're in a harness. Remember that, and jump.”

So he counts. It is simultaneously maybe the shortest and longest five seconds of my life. I know I need to do it on his timeline, and not my own, because I need help and that’s okay so this is going to be the scariest thing I ever do but I’m going to do it I’m going to do it I’m going to do it…and…I do.

I jump. I leap through the air and grasp that trapeze…that freaking trapeze that seemed impossibly far away…I reach it. I make it. I’m filled with adrenaline AND SHEER HAPPINESS as I’m lowered to the ground. I feel powerful, a not unpleasant but entirely strange and exotic thing for me to feel. I did it. Against all odds.

I jumped.

And I’m so freaking glad I did.