I did it! I am terrified of heights. We stopped by at the bridge and I knew I had to do it.

This was a battle of the brains. Front brain battling left brain, right brain and old brain.

I am fascinated by my brain, and I have gone a long way to making it my best friend, but this was an incredible challenge. Could I bring myself to dive off a bridge over a 216 metre drop?

For three nights, I hardly slept. I rehearsed that moment 5,4,3,2,1 Go! I was going to dive, not jump.

I was ready. We drove to the bridge, paid the fee and put on a harness. Then we walked down to the start point.

OMG! We had to zipline out to the middle of the bridge. I was terrified! I’ve never been on a zipline before and now there was 216 metres of nothing below me.

I survived. Middle of the bridge. Jump master playing with us. “Now, let’s see,” looking from one to the other, “which of you will be first?”

Of course, it was me, but that suited me fine as I was primed and ready.

Strap up legs, hop to the launch point, toes over the edge. This is it.

Free fall

Then, the worst part, being hoisted on a steel rope that looked soooo thin. As with the zipline, I was terrified, hanging on for dear life.

So what is happening here? Why the abject terror? From the moment you start your slide on the zip line until you reach the other end. And from the moment you dive off the launch pad until you are lying on the recovery platform, you have no control whatsoever over your life.

That’s the one reality. The other question is then, why the same terror when you look down through the catwalk grid? I think that’s when your imagination takes over and says “What would happen if I fell down there?” Same thing, you would have no control over your life.

Will I do it again? Yes, I will. But the bungee staff, who have to jump quite often, say that every jump is as scary as the last. I believe them!