To be. Or not to be.

My dear friend Julie. She's an interesting case. Possibly because she's had so very much trauma in her life. Or so I suspect. I've been personally lucky. Because my traumas have been well-spaced. And I've been able to deal with them. One at a time. And thereby turn traumatic experiences into blessings. Julie, meanwhile, has been deluged with trauma. Virtually non-stop. Since childhood.  Yes. Yes. That's it. Julie has to learn to cope with a bevy of accumulated traumas. Stuff she's ignored. For far too long. Little wonder. That Julie spends more time in depression. Than out. Little wonder. That Julie hardly ever gets through a day without her primary fix. Wine. Wine. And more wine. Julie is sick. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. She recognizes it. But not quite enough. To seek help. To check in. For sustained treatment. Julie's diseases are treatable.  But in America, we allow people the free choice. To be or not to be. And Julie chooses not to be well. Not to be happy. --Jim Broede