Something to worry about.

I’ve been in a state of anxiety much of my life. Relatively mild anxiety. Able to get it under control. And deal with it effectively. But occasionally, I lapse into a more serious type of anxiety. Allowing me to imagine. How people fall off the cliff. Into depression. That must be a scary feeling. Because anxiety and depression go hand in hand. They exacerbate each other. And climbing back to normalcy, ain’t easy. Easy for me. To coax depression-riddled Julie to pick her self up. By the boot straps. While I watch from the sidelines. She’s the one that has to do the real work. Can’t say. That some day. I may be where Julie’s at now. I’ve never been there before. To that depth. Most everyone, I suppose, has bouts of depression. Or grieving. Or melancholia. Or a dozen other names we attach to the malady. So far I’ve been able to nip depression in the bud. But I’m told (by the so-called experts) that old age can bring on depression. Sounds credible. I’m getting up in years.  And I’m feeling anxious about it. Mildly. So far. But maybe danger lies ahead. Can’t be sure. Makes me wonder. If that’s something to worry about. --Jim Broede