There were more than a few times I caught myself thinking, "what the hell am I doing here?"
One of the happiest days of my life was landing safely on my fifth and final jump, and being able to walk off the drop zone.
Some people get off on it. I knew a guy in FL that was always trying to get me to jump out of a plane. Prior to him becoming a skydiver, he was a crack head but he was out one night on his bicycle to go get some and someone smashed his face with a baseball bat, leaving him permanently disfigured. I guess that was enough to make him quit smoking crack but he needed a new thrill. Skydiving was it.
We did it for the money...(think it was an extra $110 per month back in 1990 when i was on jump status)