I’m an award-winning writer and editor living in New York City, where I currently work at BuzzFeed as the Senior Lifestyle Editor.

"I lived in a house at the top of a big, winding, steep driveway for most of my childhood. When it would snow, we'd basically be fucked until everything melted — until a neighbor moved in who worked construction. He personally owned a Bobcat and would plow our driveway for us every time it snowed so we could get in and out, and it was kind of a big deal.

Somewhere around late high school, he died. He was on a construction site, and a multi-ton block of concrete fell on him and crushed him flat.

It was always weird for me. Not just that this man I had known all my life was dead, but also that he died in a horrible tragedy that also sounded like it came from a cartoon. That stuff wasn't supposed to happen in real life. It was hard to fit into my head.

Point being: construction is dangerous, yo."

"At my company, a young electrician decided he knew what he was doing and didn’t follow our safety procedures, and didn’t turn the equipment off, and didn’t grab his PPE. He fixed the issue and went on with his day. The next day, when he was telling his manager in passing about it, he said he didn’t grab his PPE. They confirmed it and fired him on the spot. Industrial sites don’t fuck around."

I had headaches most afternoons around 3:00. I went to my doctor. I had gained 20 pounds, and my blood pressure was 150 over something. He told me to lose weight, and it'd go down.

I lost weight. Headaches still happened.

Three years later, I went back to a different doctor. My blood pressure was still in the 150s (gained back 10 pounds). I told the doctor I'd lose the weight to address it. He said no.

Gave me Lisinopril for $6 every three months. Blood pressure dropped to the 110s. Headaches went away after six-plus years.

And made me promise to visit a doctor more than once or twice a decade."

"That job always seemed so sketchy to me. You’re basically a target with a neon sign above you that says, 'Rob me!'"

"Not a musician but a wedding DJ. I’ve had one too many close calls because of driving tired. Now, if a gig is one hour away or more, it’s in my contract that they have to get me a hotel room nearby."

"I can't imagine working a job in which I would have to tell people all day long that their dog or cat is going to die... and often do the killing for them. Just nothing but mad respect for those that can do that and stay sane."

"The vet who put our dog down earlier this year only does euthanasia and said that when she switched over to doing it exclusively, it actually helped her compassion fatigue. She has a van and just goes to people's houses, and she said that the combination of getting to do it in a safe and comfortable setting, as well as always being in that headspace and mentally prepared, made the job significantly easier."

• A nitrogen bubble that makes it to your brain or heart.• Oxygen toxicity resulting in seizure (this results from high partial pressure of oxygen when you go deep with a Nitrox/Trimix blend that is too oxygen-rich). Or you get unlucky.• Panic. You can get nitrogen narcosis, which makes you feel drunk or buzzed, and then you can make questionable decisions and/or panic.

It is a great hobby, but you gotta remember the dangers. We are going where we are not supposed to be."

The National Alliance on Mental Illness helpline is 1-800-950-6264 (NAMI) and provides information and referral services; GoodTherapy.org is an association of mental health professionals from more than 25 countries who support efforts to reduce harm in therapy.