Better than no days any more.

Julie's neighbors keep asking me, 'What's happened to Julie? We don't see her any more.' I tell them only that Julie is in depression. That she has become reclusive. I don't tell them that she has a drinking problem. Maybe that's too personal. I take Julie's dog Sasha for a walk. Daily. Sometimes for 5 or 6 miles. Sasha and I are friends. Not so sure about Julie any more. I call her a semi-friend. Not quite a full-blown friend. I haven't seen Julie for several days. Even when I pick up Sasha. When I don't see Julie, it's likely that she's taken to her bedroom. To while away time. In depression. Away from people. Not so sure that's a good thing. Several neighbors tell me they plan to 'look in' on Julie. That would be a good thing. Julie probably needs camaraderie and inquisitive neighbors.  Maybe Julie is plunging. To the bottom. That could be good, too. Because then there's only one direction. Up. Up. Up. Better days ahead.  Beats the alternative. No days any more. --Jim Broede