[Ann Emerg Med. 2007;49;377.]Christopher was falling again.He could feel the cool rush of the air whispering past his skin. Twisting and tumbling as he fell, he described a spiral path as he hurtled headlong into the enveloping darkness. Below him the waves thundered against the beach with a familiar, almost reassuring, cacophony. He was going home.They found him icy and still, lying on the soft sands of Santa Monica beach. Where the rushing currents of the great Pacific come to end their long journey from the west, Christopher had chosen to end his journey as well.Christopher was schizophrenic. In the mazelike passages of his mind, facts and rules and desires and morals and laws spun and twirled in a kaleidoscope of words and letters and ideas. He couldn't quite understand the patterns that everyone else uses to govern their lives. Nothing he did could make his life normal. As much as he tried to fit in, to become the person that society expected him to be, he just couldn't make it work.His plan was simple. He would drink himself into a near stupor and then throw himself off the Santa Monica Pier into the ocean. He waited until late at night so no one would see him.The paramedics found the suicide note, carefully wrapped in plastic, washed up near his body.In his beautiful longhand, cursive writing, Christopher laid out the many transgressions and slights society had endlessly heaped upon him, until he could no longer endure further pain or humiliation. His emotions overwhelmed him, until he finally decided there was only one solution to his problems. That was to end it all.In the ED, we attacked the cold and lifeless body with directed abandon. We intubated, catheterized, lavaged, dried, warmed, and humidified him until suddenly we heard the telltale monitor beep. Once, twice, slowly gaining speed and strength.His note continued: “My life has become one long downward slide. No one cares about me. And when I jump no one will catch me.”You were wrong, Christopher, I thought. We caught you. [Ann Emerg Med. 2007;49;377.] Christopher was falling again. He could feel the cool rush of the air whispering past his skin. Twisting and tumbling as he fell, he described a spiral path as he hurtled headlong into the enveloping darkness. Below him the waves thundered against the beach with a familiar, almost reassuring, cacophony. He was going home. They found him icy and still, lying on the soft sands of Santa Monica beach. Where the rushing currents of the great Pacific come to end their long journey from the west, Christopher had chosen to end his journey as well. Christopher was schizophrenic. In the mazelike passages of his mind, facts and rules and desires and morals and laws spun and twirled in a kaleidoscope of words and letters and ideas. He couldn't quite understand the patterns that everyone else uses to govern their lives. Nothing he did could make his life normal. As much as he tried to fit in, to become the person that society expected him to be, he just couldn't make it work. His plan was simple. He would drink himself into a near stupor and then throw himself off the Santa Monica Pier into the ocean. He waited until late at night so no one would see him. The paramedics found the suicide note, carefully wrapped in plastic, washed up near his body. In his beautiful longhand, cursive writing, Christopher laid out the many transgressions and slights society had endlessly heaped upon him, until he could no longer endure further pain or humiliation. His emotions overwhelmed him, until he finally decided there was only one solution to his problems. That was to end it all. In the ED, we attacked the cold and lifeless body with directed abandon. We intubated, catheterized, lavaged, dried, warmed, and humidified him until suddenly we heard the telltale monitor beep. Once, twice, slowly gaining speed and strength. His note continued: “My life has become one long downward slide. No one cares about me. And when I jump no one will catch me.” You were wrong, Christopher, I thought. We caught you. The author wishes to acknowledge the editorial assistance of Emily Bartzen, PA-C.