Playing roles of helpless actors.

I feel helpless. Because I can't save my friend. Because she doesn't want to be saved. She's crazy. Depressed. Addicted to alcohol. All of the above. And more. I'm told that she must want to be saved. That she has to make her own decision. But really, she's incapable of making rational, positive decisions. She's incompetent. She should be put away. In an institution. Where she can obtain help. That's my opinion. Unfortunately, I don't have the authority or wherewithal to bring this about. Oh, I have the inclination. The desire. And maybe I'll find a way. Eventually. But there are so very many hurdles. Unless she volunteers to seek help. That's the way the system works. Help comes too late. My friend is committing a slow, methodical suicide. By doing detrimental stuff. She's a mental and physical and emotional wreck. She really should be hauled away. By people in white coats. And forced into treatment. But she won't be. Because we are mere observers. Everyone. Playing roles of helpless actors.  Fearing to intervene in meaningful ways. ---Jim Broede