This Is My Journal of a Time I Saved Someone From Suicide

December 23, 20--

The idea of keeping a record of my events, or, of my events soon to be, seems like a desperate attempt at trying to abide by some kind of tacit urge to find worth in a world that never asked for my worth. You see, why else would I begin to write a journal when I've lived for twenty so odd years on this earth? Why now, of all the twenty years? It would make sense to say that if I were to keep a complete track of all of my days starting from the day I was born that this act of keeping a journal be not one of insidious self praise. No. It would then be habit, a part of my life. But, now I am keeping a record of my events, or, of my events soon to be. You see, to preface--Actually, saying, "You" is quite odd. It is not in the fact that "You" are reading this that I am addressing some kind of "You". In fact, I'm going to be reading this. So why am I referring to me as "You"? It just somehow comes to be like that, huh? If I were to give myself a psychoanalysis on why I decided to address this to a second person, then here's my take on that:

To my patient, Cadence ----, December 23, 20--

To give a brief analysis on my patient's psyche, it appears that she suffers from an overtly enhanced state of worth. In other words, she believes that she truly is the center of the world, much like those scientists of the past believed that the galaxy revolved around Earth. Thus, she seems to interpret her life as having much more meaning and much more flagrance than it really does. She chooses not to admit to the fact that out of the seven billion people on Earth, that she to them, is merely a number in that sum. She simply cannot come to terms with the idea that everyone in the world is not following her daily exploits.

I asked my friend Anna for advice when writing in a diary. She seemed like the type to always keep one, the type to write gossip and her crushes, and how much she hated every girl in her high school clique who isn't working at a suicide prevention center. She liked to call it a "space." It's a space where I'm supposed to be able to write anything that I wanted without worry that someone will see it. I was very familiar with the term "space." I had to use it all the time when I picked up calls. It was one of the stock advices that we gave most people.

"Find a safe space," we would always say. Having a safe space allowed people to think without worry. It allowed them to be the center of the world for just a few moments, and for them to recollect themselves. I've always told people this, but, at the same time, I haven't always been the best at finding a safe space either. Sometimes I wanted to ask them how they did it, how they managed to find a safe space where they didn't need to kill themselves. You see, the reason why I can't often find a safe space, is that my safe space, isn't safe at all. It's strange, I know. Maybe I'll write it down here, so that you can see what I mean.

Oh, I just laughed.

You see, it's funny to me, that I keep writing, "You". It's more like "me," because I'm the one who's going to read it later. But, the me who's going to read this, is going to be different than the me who wrote this. So, it might be appropriate to say, "You" after all.

I laughed again.

Just so that I know, so that I can remind myself, I am writing this at 10:34, right before I go to bed. Well, actually I started at 10:00, but I've been writing for a while now. I'm going to take a break, so that I can stay focused. There's something important that I want to write down here, it's about my day. You'll see.

Okay, I'm back.

I guess, I'll start from the beginning of my day. I can skip all the stuff about getting up and heading to work. I already know my routine. Well, maybe it might be important if I lose my memory. I probably won't, but I might one day. Sometimes I really do feel like I'm losing my memory. Like a certain part of me begins leaving my body, like I'm being extracted on a surgery bed, every part of me being probed by some kind of steel blade. I feel like that sometimes, honestly. They come for me because I'm doing so well for myself. I think they're jealous. But that's why I always carry with me my green pills. They keep me warm. And they keep me focused. I haven't had them in a while now. I've been getting better, I think. That's what my doctor says.