Visited with my friend Julie today. She’s in a bout of deep
depression. I listened and listened and listened. Figuring that was the appropriate thing.
Tried to say nice things to Julie. Tried to buoy her spirit and confidence. To
no avail. She was home alone. Husband Rick was at work. And he took their dog
Sasha with him. Anyway, being alone isn’t good for Julie. Especially when she’s
in depression. Tried to get Julie to occupy her mind. With upbeat thoughts.
Again, to no avail. Julie said she missed ‘the dog.’ Yes, she called Sasha ‘the
dog.’ She’s done that before. I call it to Julie’s attention. It would be the
same as me calling Julie ‘the woman.’ Anyway, it was something for Julie to
think about. To divert her mind. I try all sorts of things. Often to no avail.
But I keep trying. This and that. There’s an occasional breakthrough. Julie saw
that I was becoming beleaguered. Frustrated. So she kindly encouraged me to go
for a walk. I did. Went two miles. Cleared my mind. Then I returned. Rang the
doorbell. Several times. No answer. I tried the door. It was locked. By now, I know Julie’s predictable
routine. She’s up in her bedroom.
Sipping wine. Maybe even guzzling it. All the more reason. For Julie to get
help. To go into treatment. Until she learns to take care of herself.
Meanwhile. I’m taking care of myself. Walking. Walking. Walking. Immersing
myself. In good vibes. Getting Julie off my mind. --Jim Broede
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