An Awkward Admission

 So most of us want to be seen as nice and proper people, and attempt to do the right thing. Often, socially, we are compelled to invite people to events we'd truly rather they don't attend.

I have an admission: I have done that over the years, and am secretly ecstatic when the unwanted invitees can't attend. It's awful -- and as I get older I do it less and less. If I have an event, I only invite people I wish to have there with me. But there's always that "problem spouse," ...

Well, yesterday I experienced a relative of this situation. It involves a friend from many years back, who's going through a crisis. The details don't matter, but he feels he cannot be alone. Several fellow friends and I visited last week -- and the fellow was a chore to be around -- the deepest of depressions -- near zero affect. Each time someone suggested a different treatment or strategy he might try, he dismissed it and basically told us he was never coming out of this black hole.

An ex girlfriend of his has undertaken his care. She moved in with him, and is with him each evening -- cooking dinner, making sure he takes his meds, making sure he eats.

But he told us the girlfriend was going out of town this week -- and he truly didn't know what he was going to do -- he hadn't spent an entire night alone since December, when his witches' brew of psychiatric hospitalizations, etc...started.

The other two visiting friends, who live in the north part of Miami Dade, nodded. I volunteered -- I would pick an evening, fetch dinner, and come visit -- at least to break up one of the long nights.

In truth, I dreaded the encounter. We're no longer close friends, and I try to surround myself, as much as possible, with those who elevate me -- not bring me down. But I felt I should do it.

So yesterday, I went to the office for a few hours, and then texted the patient -- how about I fetch some Italian, and come by around 630? An hour later he replied: his brother, also now his legal guardian, had come down from Boca -- he would be eating with him, so he needed to cancel.

 A  more pure hearted person would have been disappointed -- no -- I had committed to this mercy visit, and I ought to offer to reschedule. Not me. I was privately elated -- as if I was going to take a difficult exam in school and learned it was no longer required.

I texted back "No problem -- another time" and it may indeed come to pass. But I felt I was given a HUGE pass -- avoiding an awkward evening of sadness and darkness.

I wish this fellow a recovery -- I sincerely hope it happens. I know a lot about serious mental illness -- it runs deeply on my mother's side of the family. My mom was one of 5 -- and each of my aunts and my uncle had a child or grandchild with serious mental illness. My oldest first cousin Arlyne spent a lot of her adult life in mental hospitals -- she lost custody of her sons in the 70s -- my parents took in the toddler for several weeks.

Another first cousin, herself a frequent flyer in mental health hospitals, had a son who died young -- either suicide of accidental overdose.

My own family has not escaped this cures.

So I know that often the answer is an artful mix of psychotropic meds, and intense therapy. I hope my friend gets it, and bounces back.

But I have to admit -- I was relieved to be excused from a sad duty last night. Sainthood will not be an option for me.