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Every day, on my way to and from work, I walk over a freeway overpass.
To the side, train tracks.
Every time I see it, I smile.
When I was 14, I had to walk over that overpass to get to school.
One day, I stood above the train tracks, holding the rail tight. Anxiety and depression had become too much for me to take. School was hell - I didn't feel strong enough to keep doing it. It would've been easy to roll over the rail and fall. I had few friends. I had little hope.
Just for that moment.
Then a classmate walked by - one who would become a lifelong friend. He didn't know what I was thinking. He just said hi and started talking to me.
But he didn't save me that day. I did. I pulled myself from the railing. Nobody else, though I'd credit him with it for a while.
Every time I walk over the overpass, I smile.
In two years, that girl's friendship circle would triple. She would start therapy at 16. Confess her depression to her friends. At 18, she graduated high school, not top of her class, but she graduated. Then college. A few internships, then a job working in the field she always wanted.
It wasn't easy. But it was worth it.
Every time I walk over the overpass, I laugh, and inside my head, I flip it the middle finger. I didn't die that day. And if I can survive that day, I can survive the rest of my life.
I can live it.
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