"What day is it? I can't seem to hold on to days any more. It's really bothering me." My new friend M asks, shading her eyes to squint at me as we pause beside a swollen stream on our spring walk. Trees reach out to each other above our heads, the path hugged by budding greenery, spotlights of sun dancing on the earth at our feet. I chuckle softly. My problem had always been the opposite. I had a firm grasp on the days. Monday November 26, 2012 - The day I was admitted to the adult mental health ward. Monday October 6, 2014 - Returned to work. March 11, 2016 - The day the darkness loomed so great I left work again to save myself. How could I have changed all the moments that led up to those days? Now that I am unemployed, what will my future days look like? "It's my favorite day. It's today," I reply with a smile. I can tell she is not happy with that answer.