Assuming that I am right.

I tend to challenge the "experts." About Alzheimer's. About depression. About religion. About oh, so many things. I don't always cozy up to conventional thinking. I look for my own truth. About how to live life. How to deal with life. How to cope. How to be happy. The "experts" on the Alzheimer's message boards told me that good vibes therapy and love wouldn't make a difference in treating Alzheimer's. Well, I know better. They're wrong. I'm right. If that makes me sound superior and like Mr. Know It All -- well, then so be it. That's no skin off my butt. I found what worked. On Jeanne. And so that's what I did. And I kept telling people. Hey, this works. At least for me. And for Jeanne. And I kept telling 'em and telling 'em and telling 'em. And some said enough. We've heard enough. Well, my attitude is if they've heard enough, ignore me. Turn me off. It's like with my blog. Oh, so many from the Alzheimer's message board come to visit. They read the blog. And they post mean and nasty comments. Because they don't like me. But still, they come back to read. And I suggest, they have become addicted. They're curious. In a sense, I'm their fix. Maybe they like to dislike. Like to hate. Like to be annoyed. Like to be angry. Yes, I push their buttons. I agitate. I stir the pot. They want me banned from the Alzheimer's message boards. I'm not one of them. I make them feel uncomfortable. And I suppose I like that. And when it comes to depression, I suppose I'm one of the lucky ones. I'm not among the 19 million Americans with depression. I've escaped. And I don't know how. Maybe because I have the right genes. But I suspect my father had depression. And my mother and my sister, too. So, how did I get by all these 72 years? Was I in depression without knowing it? Or did I find a way to cope? Did I fool myself into thinking that I wasn't diseased? So many things that I don't let bother me. Even my dad's suicide. I learned to cope early with that event. And get on with living. Reasonably happy. I don't let things haunt me. Drag me down. And how do I do that? Maybe I fantasize. I become a romantic idealist. I learn to believe in the concept of love. I create my own concept. My own take on love. I find ways to live my love. I write about it. I talk about it. But mostly, I live it. And I learn to live what I write. I create my own story. My own life. And yes, I'm living it. Even through disappointment. I believe what I want to believe. Even if I have to deceive myself in the process. Like with religion. I believe in god. And in an afterlife. In another dimension. A spirit world. Because I have to. Because I want to. I accept all this on faith. Because that's what makes sense. For me. It gives life meaning. And if I'm wrong, I'm wrong. But by golly, I want to be right. And so I go about living my life. Assuming that I am right. --Jim Broede