My way.

I call it the tough love way. I insist that Julie gets help. To overcome her depression. And her drinking problem.  I wish everyone in Julie’s life would take a tough love approach. Her husband. Her friends and acquaintances.  The whole caboodle. We have been far too easy on Julie. We have allowed Julie to languish. In her self-imposed misery. In a living Hell.  We have enabled. Rather than intervened. I’d carry off Julie. To a sanitarium. Or maybe the nearby Mayo Clinic. For a total evaluation. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. That sure beats the present alternative. Allowing Julie to plunge. Into the abyss. From which she may never emerge. –Jim Broede