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A good grasp of the situation.
Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, February 11, 2015 10:05 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Sat down with a psychotherapist today. For 45 minutes. And I won't go back. Because he did me no good. I might just as well talk to myself. That's all I did. Talked to myself. For nearly the entire session. I do that all the time. No reason to have a psychotherapist in the room. I went to the session. To put the psychotherapist to a test. To see if he did me any good. He looked at his watch. Several times. Before telling me. I didn't need psychotherapy. That I have things pretty well figured out. Yes, I have a good grasp of my situation. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 12, 2015 9:53 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Don't get me wrong. I'm for psychotherapy. Nothing wrong. In finding ways. To better understand one's self. Good psychotherapy does that. I generally shun going to a psychotherapist. Well, that's not really true. I go. Almost daily. Without leaving my domain. I'm my own best psychotherapist. I treat myself. By turning inward. And being honest with myself. Sure, I kid around a bit. But I face the truth. I'm able to be self-analytical. I diagnose my own problems. And deal with them. Though I don't mind living with some problems. Because I'll never be perfect. But still, my life is manageable. Very much so. Anyway, I'd be wasting my time. If I went to the typical psychotherapist. They are the ones in need of psychotherapy. That's the way they make their living. That makes them suspect. I practice psychotherapy. Strictly, as an amateur. Treating mostly myself. But I don't hesitate practicing. On my friends and acquaintances. And believe me. I'm damn good at it. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 12, 2015 10:16 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


My dear friend Julie. She's in dire need of psychotherapy. But she's reluctant to go. For a variety of reasons. Maybe it's that she doesn't trust psychotherapists. But I suspect that she trusts me. So I'm going to offer Julie the opportunity of a lifetime. I'll become her psychotherapist. In just the right setting. I walk her dog, Sasha. Daily. Takes about 45 minutes. To traverse our two-mile route. Now, Julie has an invitation. To join us. A perfect time for psychotherapy. She can come. As often or as little as she wants. Believe me. She'll get good psychotherapy. The best. And she can't beat the cost. I work for free. --Jim Broede
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 12, 2015 11:03 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I've written about Julie before. Right here. Because she's a prime example. Of what happens to Alzheimer care-givers. That don't take adequate care of themselves. Maybe for admirable reasons. Because they are saints. But that's not the case with Julie. She ain't a saint. And doesn't want to be. Her friends just want her to be Julie. The woman that existed before she took on the mammoth task of caring for her Alzheimer-riddled parents. In her own home. For six years. With a vital assist, of course, from husband Rick. I'm amazed. That the marriage lasted through all this. But it's a tribute. To a loving couple. Julie's mother died. About two years ago. Her father, however, lingers on. Now in a unique residential nursing home. Where he's well-adjusted. Because he gets the best of care. Lots of one-on-one mental and physical therapy. As close to ideal that it ever gets. For someone with Alzheimer's. Anyway, the worst of it should be over. For Julie. And Rick. But Julie needs psychotherapy. Because she hasn't adjusted. Hasn't recovered from her ordeal. She flits into bouts of anxiety and depression. I've seen it happen to other care-givers. I understand. They have become emotionally drained. And it's hard to bounce back. But it's not impossible. I've gotten on with life. After 13 years as a care-giver. I'm trying to tell Julie, and others in a similar dilemma. To seek help. Mentally. And physically. There are ways to return to normal and happy and well-adjusted living again. --Jim
w/e
Posted: Thursday, February 12, 2015 12:41 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


I am glad you went to the 'listening person.' And you came back whistling, singing, and dancing. Your usual self.
Yes, old man, you have a good grasp of your inner (and outer) self. I could have told you that!

As for Julie. Hugs. Plenty of hugs! The best medicine ( and psychotherapy) for her is the healing power of your friendship. Passionately, determined, courageous, affectionate, loving, gentle, dependable, and strong. Be inspiring. Your love of life is contagious. Be a contagion to your Julie.

Hold her hand. Be still and, best of all, be quiet. Let your company be her oasis. Let her hear, and listen to, not only the echo of your wisdom. But let her absorb also the peace within your heart.
She is deeply, deeply grieving. She is grieving for what she has lost. And, she is grieving for what she is losing. Life has no meaning. She is in need of soothing comfort. Give her that. Help her heal from the inside-out. It takes time. A long time for some of us. Life feels upside-down. And absurd... Many thinkers since the beginning of time have written about the anguish and pain of life. The darkness of the soul. And, the experience of loss. Moments of hell on earth. Existential angst.

Julie needs a good friend. Bring her flowers.


Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, February 13, 2015 12:00 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Think about it, w/e. There's a thin line. Between treating Julie tenderly. And enabling her to stay in grieving and depression. For far too long. At some point, Julie has to take the initiative. To get out of her funk. Before she kills herself. From neglect. Oh, it won't be suicide, technically. Julie is living perilously. Mentally and physically. She's lost weight. She's gaunt. Because she isn't eating properly. Doesn't help that she sips too much wine. And that exacerbates the depression. I'd have her committed to some form of therapy. That is, if I had the power. It's sad. To watch a dear friend/loved one deteriorate. Because she won't seek help. On her own. Maybe it's better to confront her. With tough love. Instead of tender and soothing love -- which often enables rather than solves the problem. I'm for whatever works. Including kidnapping Julie. And taking her to the Mayo Clinic. For a thorough physical/mental exam. Thing is. Julie doesn't know how to help herself. Julie has been a care-giver for too many years. It has drained her emotional stamina. And she's hooked. On giving. Rather than receiving care. She's forgotten how to take care of herself. She's no longer in love. With life. Now that she no longer has to care for her parents, she seems to have lost purpose. I suggest a new purpose. Taking care of herself. First and foremost. Without delay. Now. Now. Now. We're working on Julie. Her husband, Rick, is playing the bad cop. I'm the good cop. Maybe Julie will see the light. One of these days. Before it's too late. Believe me, Julie is running out of time. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, February 13, 2015 4:08 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I'm telling Julie. That her dog, Sasha, has asked for psychotherapy. That Sasha has trouble coping. Just being around Julie. Because Julie emits bad vibes. And that's driving Sasha crazy. I'm good. At psychotherapy. Not only with people. But with animals. Especially dogs and cats. I speak their language. With a blend of bark and growl and hiss. I can read their minds, too. Anyway, Sasha says she's becoming a nervous wreck. Worrying about Julie. I'm advising Sasha to steer clear of Julie. For a while. For the sake of Sasha's own mental health. That she shouldn't let Julie drag her down into hell. Better for Sasha to go for walks with me. I scheduled a psychotherapy session with Sasha for this afternoon. But when I rang the doorbell. To fetch Sasha. All was quiet. No response. I suspect Julie took to bed. With Sasha. Holding Sasha captive, more or less. I am sure Sasha would rather be out and about. With me. Undergoing psychotherapy. At least, Sasha is showing more sense. Than Julie. When I get the chance, I'll tell Julie and Sasha.. That they can be good for each other. But Julie should be taking better care of Sasha. Because of Sasha's mental problems. Triggered by Julie's quirky behavior. Means that Julie needs to get her act together. Pronto. --Jim
Agent 99
Posted: Friday, February 13, 2015 4:22 PM
Joined: 6/7/2013
Posts: 2164


That's precisely what I have resorted to saying with my sweetie and it works. Chaos doesn't want you to go out and get hurt. Chaos thinks you are too tired. Chaos says your shirt is hanging out... Go for it!!
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, February 14, 2015 3:55 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Maybe we are too cautious. In dealing with people in depression. By being too loving. By allowing them to wallow in their discomfort. Sometimes, I'd rather confront them. At the risk of alienation. I want to get to the heart of the matter. The troubling reasons. Why they find it so difficult to cope with life. As a friendly psychotherapist, I not only want to listen attentively to their laments. But I also want to find ways to get them to start thinking in positive ways. Maybe through humor. For them to see the funny side of their plight. To laugh. At themselves. Maybe that's why they are in trouble. They've lost their sense of humor. I find that an effective approach. With Julie. I don't hesitate telling Julie the raw and brutal truth. Because it's funny. And she knows it. She has fallen into a funk. Because she takes life far too seriously. She steadfastly refuses to have fun. She's lost direction. Lost purpose. Lost the ability to love herself. Maybe that's more important than being loved by others. No doubt, Julie covets being loved. By husband Rick. By her friends. But the problem. As I see it. Is that Julie no longer loves herself. She's become a masochist. She flagellates herself. She's her own worst enemy. That's what I've been trying to tell Julie. Regain your confidence. Find ways to love thyself. That's paramount. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, February 14, 2015 4:22 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Reason to mark the calendar. I had a Julie sighting today. Julie is in depression. Mostly because she's grieving. Over the loss of her parents. Anyway, people in depression tend to be reclusive. They go to bed. And hide out there. For long, long periods. I hadn't seen Julie in three days. Though I was over several times. Each day. To fetch Julie's dog Sasha. For our daily workouts. In an ideal world, Julie would take Sasha for walks. But things ain't exactly ideal for Julie. I'm trying to coax her. Into bouts of upbeat thoughts. But that's difficult. Especially if I hardly ever see her. I insisted on seeing Julie today. I kidded her. That I was beginning to suspect husband Rick of foul play. Anyway, I rejoiced. At seeing Julie alive. Even though she didn't look well. She's gaunt. And looks tired. Obviously, going to bed is no cure-all. For depression. Meanwhile, I hugged Julie. In accord with advice. Received. On this message board. From w/e. It was good advice. Unfortunately, Julie needs more than hugs. A good start would be a physical exam. And psychotherapy. Rick and I are working on it. Have been. Forever, it seems. Almost long enough to drive both of us into depression. As some of you know. I'm the eternal optimist. Some day, Julie will be on the road to recovery. Maybe starting tomorrow. --Jim
w/e
Posted: Saturday, February 14, 2015 8:54 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


Great...Perhaps a baby step for Julie, but a steady step for her to have been receptive to your hugs. Gentle. Comforting fatherly embrace. She is in need of her mother and father. Their soothing love. She misses them so much! My mom and Dad have been dead for over 30 years and I still talk to them and call for them when I am feeling down. I can imagine how Julie is feeling!

Jim, when you are visiting their house, if Julie feels comfortable, have the husband put some music on and you try a dance with her. I would quite often begin to dance with my beloved husband as soon as I perceived the dark clouds of depression beginning to float inside his mind. Dancing is therapeutic.

Yes. Your dear friend needs professional help. She also needs you (and DH) to complement what she is receiving from the psychotherapist. If, she so chooses.

Drink with her some Lemon Balm tea. Chamomile Tea. Make it a tea ceremony. Read poetry to her while drinking tea.

Put a few drops of lavender essential oil around the house. Have her take a few sniffs of orange essential oil. All very soothing and calming.

A few drops of peppermint essential oil is uplifting when used around the house.

For my 'darkness' I've consumed St.John's Wort tea twice a day. I don't know what meds Julie is taking. It is better to check with her doctor about St. John's Wort tea.

Invite her out for a hot chocolate drink or an ice-cream or to a play or to the movies or to an art gallery.
And, most importantly, lots of lights in the house. Open those curtains!

In my opinion, for now, the less you say...the better. Let your presence be your words. She is already hearing from plenty other people that she has to snap out of it!!

Handle with care. She is a fragile package.


Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 15, 2015 2:06 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


You'd be disappointed in me, w/e. If you saw me try to physically navigate the dance floor. I can dance. Nimbly. Gracefully. Like a lover. In my imagination. As a spirit. But as a physical being. An actual performer of the dance. I am a miserable failure. I settle for dancing. In my dreams. Sure. Tell me I can learn to dance. No. No. It is impossible. I am deficient. I can walk and run. Nimbly and athletically. Like a gazelle. With amazing endurance. And dexterity. But to dance. That is something else. Call me deprived. But I find ways to make up for it. With words that dance. I exploit my strengths. To compensate for my weaknesses/deficiencies. Another thing. I can't sing. But I write poetry. That dances. And sings, too. Enough to get me by. --Jim

Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 15, 2015 5:05 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Thinking tonight. That I do dance. Inwardly. With my spirit. With my soul. And with the spirits of other people. I dance. To the music of Mozart and Haydn and Beethoven. Their spirits live. Inside me. I am moved. Enamored. By their spirits. I don't make music. Don't compose. I don't play an instrument. Or sing. But I feel their music. The music of other souls. Maybe even when I was a baby. Certainly when I was an adolescent. Spirits are living. All around me. They goad me on. To find meaning. In life. In love. Great artists. Are also technicians. In the physical sense. They have mastered technique. I have no desire to be a technician. I leave the technical stuff to others. Better that I absorb the vibrations. And make spiritual love. With feeling. With passion. From within. With an unshackled spirit. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 15, 2015 8:05 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I'm tempted, w/e and Agent 99, to encourage Julie. To come. To musings. For psychotherapy. From the likes of the two of you. She especially connects with you, w/e. You capture how she feels. Maybe it's because you are pure woman. Women often approach problems of life and love and mental well-being differently than men. I want solutions right away. You'd let matters percolate. No hurry. Take one's time. I do that, too. Unless matters seem to be reaching the crisis stage. I have never flirted with serious depression. That may be a handicap. When I try to help someone in depression. Meanwhile, I could imagine. A series of private letters. Between you, w/e, and Julie. That might bring Julie to the path of recovery. She may need the guidance of a woman's hand. In order to see the big picture. To truly see herself. Just an idea. I'm thinking. Out loud. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 15, 2015 11:11 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I am pretending. To be Julie. That I am inside her soul. Inside her spirit. Inside her being. I eavesdropped. On Julie's thoughts. And heard this musing.

"This is Julie. I have been reading. About what everyone in this thread has said about me. Well, let me tell you. In my own words. The truth. What's happening to me. The way I see it. Sure, I'm confused. Puzzled. About my mental state. I'm trying to understand myself. Maybe w/e comes closest to giving me what I need. Some true understanding and empathy. I'd rather sit down. With w/e. And talk it out. Because she understands me. Better than the rest of you. Better than my husband Rick. Better than Jim. All I want. At the moment. Is empathy. Hugs. Loving. Understanding. Yes, I may have a distorted view of reality. But still, it's my reality. Distorted or not. Jim tells me I'm too close to the forest. To see the trees. To see the big picture. He would drag me into therapy. But I can't be dragged. I can't be forced. Occasionally, I admit. Confess. That I don't have the will power, the stamina, the determination. To get help. And yes, I have bouts of paranoia. I don't trust Rick. He doesn't give me enough loving and understanding. Sometimes, I feel he has abandoned me. And Jim tells me. Rick has done just the opposite. Rick has embraced me. Stuck with me. Through thick and thin. But that Rick is becoming weary. That he's reaching the point where he can't take it any more. Jim tells me that Rick would do virtually anything to make me happy. But that I steadfastly refuse to be happy. I find that hard to accept. Jim tells me that I blame others for my unhappiness. My depression. Never blaming myself. Tell me. Tell me, w/e. What am I to do? How am I to learn how to cope with life? Once again. I am feeling so helpless. I retreat to my bed. And try to lapse into sleep. That's when I am happiest. When I fall asleep. It's not a good sign, is it?"
Agent 99
Posted: Sunday, February 15, 2015 2:42 PM
Joined: 6/7/2013
Posts: 2164


My mother implores me to get dressed and get out of the house - for 40 years. Go anywhere. I don't know anywhere. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't care about anywhere. So I sit and at 84 yo she continues to harangue me about going somewhere.

My depressions used to be accompanied by paralyzing anxiety - something real became the biggest monster on earth. I was never afraid of speed (as in velocity), riding my bike on city streets, being alone, strange lands - just of people who salted unhealed wounds. Then anxiety disappeared but I remain dysthymic, with melancholia and occasional endorphin rushes. What moved me from one state to another - I should be an expert by now, but I don't really know. Medication, therapy, acceptance, luck. My mind is very busy doing things I don't do physically. I ski, play tennis, am svelte, hike, bike ride, laugh, go to concerts, movies, out for dinner - all on my cocoon couch comatose cuddling Chaos. Like I said once before, I am a functional depressionista - went to work, kept fed, paid bills - weekends kept still.

Dear Julie's world is hers. Continue to care, do what you do - one day the light might shine through a crack and there will be light, a sunrise, another sunset, a fog, a way out or a way in or a dead end. It's a process. She will write the last chapter. Unless her Roger and/or her Jim carry her to the learned people in white coats and gloved hands.





Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 15, 2015 3:44 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Maybe. Just maybe. I have made progress with Julie today. She's reading this thread. And may come to the message boards. To musings. As a participant. With the likes of you, dear w/e and Agent 99. You can all help each other. Finding your separate ways. Out of this morass. She needs to commune. With other care-givers. You have empathy/understanding for each other. That's a good start. The small steps add up. I remain the optimist. All three of you are going to make it. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, February 16, 2015 7:37 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


You arouse my curiosity, Agent 99. Maybe because you are different. At least from my perspective, You seem to know thyself. And you can be impulsive. And do daring stuff. Yet you are reclusive. You like the safety of your cocoon. And having a worthy companion. Chaos. But I suspect you are not as comatose as you portray yourself. Your mind is working. Figuring things out. You probably fully understand. What you have to do. To be genuinely happy. You know the benefits of marking time. You are not to be hurried. Or prodded. Indeed, you are the subject of my curiosity. Tell me more. If you feel like it. And I think you do. Because you are curious, too. Did w/e call you Basha? --Jim
w/e
Posted: Monday, February 16, 2015 1:51 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


We are artists.
Creators of Life.
Towering with the highs. And, slithering with the lows.
Always unfolding.

a canvas untouched.
an empty pad waiting for words.
a song to be composed
a dance to be expressed.
a driftwood to be carved.

No rush in my studio.
"Create as you will." I say.

Without fear.
With patience.
With love.
In due time. The creation is good.




Agent 99
Posted: Tuesday, February 17, 2015 12:26 PM
Joined: 6/7/2013
Posts: 2164


https://www.alzconnected.org/discussion.aspx?g=posts&t=2147507170

Jim,
WhyzEnheimer (w/e) (Alzheimer's funny and enlightened sibling) is responsible for the emergence of Basha. How did you know w/e was complicit? Basha is my hebrew name (great babushka) never spoken past my 13th year until my sweetie and I created Basha Blondski - one of our many love names. Then w/e and Chaos became BFFs (see above link to read their love posts) and Chaos leaked one of Agent 99's identities.

Yes, I don't accurately portray myself as others see, think or know of me. My horn rarely toots. And here I word everything so carefully to avoid revealing anything that would identify me and thus my sweetie. It's like the edge of the diving board. I want to jump in but there are too many others in the deep end.

My glass isn't really half empty anymore. It turned over when my sweetie's half empty glass moved into my life. Two negatives turned me positive - I even say have a good day - but I still am easily demotivated and tend toward deactivation until an external challenge crosses my path. That's why the battered/batterer son is now four days living in my cocoon. Sweetie is completely unable to steer the son's sinking ship - in his words, because he is not allowed to drive! - so I did it voluntarily. I have now become the stepmother. Was not expecting that.

I have a good grasp of my sweetie's and his son's situation. My situation still grasping.


Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, February 18, 2015 2:37 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I'd like to bring back mental institutions. Sanitariums. Where people are kept for weeks. Maybe months. To solve their mental health issues. Places where they would get intensive daily therapy. Mental institutions were abandoned. Decades ago. In favor of community-based, out-care treatment. Which often seems insufficient. Too many things can go wrong. Too many people get worse. Not better. They need relatively long-term treatment. In an institution-setting. Where the care is complete and thorough. I'd also make it easier to get the mentally disturbed committed. To treatment. Against their will, if necessary. I wish there were a full-fledged mental institution in my community. I'd work hard. To have my dear friend Julie volunteer to go in. But if she didn't, I'd try to make a case for her to be committed. Involuntarily. For her own good. Of course, that would raise hackles. With lovers of individual freedom. Claiming that even nut cases should be allowed to be nuts. As long as they do no harm to others. But I could argue that Julie is doing harm. To herself. And that indirectly does harm to her loved ones, and friends. Anyway, the mentally ill will always be with us. And they deserve to be treated better. Just as well as the physically ill. They have physical care hospitals. And opportunities. For extended stays. The mentally ill deserve equal treatment. In mental care hospitals. --Jim
Agent 99
Posted: Wednesday, February 18, 2015 4:51 PM
Joined: 6/7/2013
Posts: 2164


Deinstitutionalization in the '70's without community support was a tragedy for the patients and another stain on our public health history. Asylums and mental institutions were, at least, the public ones, were also tragedies. My preference for revival would be sanitoriums in the Swiss Alps. That's where I want to spend the end of my days.

Thanks for jogging my memory about potential options for Julie that are probably readily available in your community.

Most hospitals have outpatient mental health programs called partial hospitalization. Medication management, group therapies, mindfulness techniques and goal setting are the main activities for the day. Duration is a function of the patient's progress. I am aware of several people who have benefited from such a program.

If Julie has suicidal thoughts then she should be taken to the ER and would likely be either involuntarily or voluntarily committed and hospitalized for medication management and group therapies but not as intensive as the day program. Discharge typically when patient is no longer suicidal but still needs mental health support in a PHP, private setting, etc. A family member took this route twice and it worked both times. The stay was about 10 days in both cases.


Here's a brief description of partial hospitalization. It available to people of any age not just medicare recipients.

http://www.medicare.gov/coverage/partial-hospitalization-mental-health-care.html

It would be great to hear that there is such a program locally and Julie could be helped by either one or both.

w/e
Posted: Wednesday, February 18, 2015 8:50 PM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


Julie is an adult... she is not a child despite her mental difficulties... she is a free agent... with human rights...
In my humble opinion, your suggestion of placing Julie INVOLUNTARILY in a mental institution could be damaging to her 'spirit'.....She might feel like a prisoner in an armed camp. Some psychiatric institutions are not that great. And some are not a 'good fit.' The institution could turn her into a 'pharmaceutical zombie' if she tries to escape. It could be difficult also to find the best Psychiatrist fit for her in a crowded institution.
Be extremely careful. Julie is not demented. She is probably 'cognizant' of what is happening around her.

Julie is a fragile, sad, confused, lost soul.
Julie's human misery is real. In my opinion involuntarily institutionalizing her would be like an immediate 'quick fix'. An aspirin for the pain. It will just make it easier to 'cope' momentarily.

To help Julie with her healing, it is a long term project.
Probably at first, it should be a 'one on one' experience with a 'professional' partner. And maybe, eventually, some group therapy. In order to be successful.

All dear Julie is hearing right now is people telling her,
"You are late. You are late. Get better, Julie... yesterday!"
She weeps because she is not healing fast enough. She feels incompetent. So, she wants you all to go away from her. The constant chatter about her mental-well-being is possibly suffocating her.
I get a sense of people rushing her to be an 'active' person right, right this moment. And asking Julie to do things their way. At their pace.

How long has her depression/ her darkness been going on?
Is she psychotic? Is she schizophrenic? Is she violent?

By your accounts, Julie is depressed. Julie is terribly sad. And, she continues to retreat more and more from engaging in the normal activities of this fast-paced world and reality.

Yes. Julie is in need of better 'mental hygiene.'
Why does Julie feel depressed?
How long ago did her LO die?
Julie probably is still in mourning! And, she is deeply grieving!
Her father is in dementia care, right? His Alzheimer's is a horrible nightmare for her. Painful.
Julie has experienced hell on earth! She feels the affliction of having been a caretaker for years!
She hasn't replaced her pain with a sense of hope.
And, I bet her heart and soul are consumed by guilt.
"Was I a good daughter? Could I have been a better daughter?", Julie asks.
People tell her, "Yes. You are a wonderful daughter. A faithful advocate for your loved ones. A good caregiver. You did your best"
Her heart tells her, "No. I am a failure. I've failed as a daughter. I am failing as a wife. I am failing as a friend."

Right now Julie feels not lovable. Her self esteem is hurting. How could anyone accept her?
She feels completely detached even from her g-d!
She feels empty. Life makes no sense to her. She is weeping for the dead. And sometimes she feels she is dead too. I bet sometimes she just wants to run away. To go far away from her misery. To disappear. And not be the cause of misery to her loved ones. She feels like a failure because she does not know how to stop her emotional bleeding.

Yes... Julie needs help. Big time help. She needs guidance. She needs support.
I believe she does not need to be committed to a psychiatric hospital... INVOLUNTARILY.
If she makes the choice to go to a psychiatric hospital VOLUNTARILY for her mental care, the therapy will be more successful.

Julie needs constant care and unconditional love from those who love her.
Julie needs to accept Julie as she is. To love Julie.
Meds might help her. But, medications will only temporarily mask the void she is feeling.
Julie needs consolation. She needs to accept her self. And, to forgive her self.

Really, what do I know, eh? I am not a professional. ... I'm just saying...
...........
My mandate says: Do not resuscitate. Do not use extraordinary measures...
( Maybe I should include in my mandate: Please. Do not involuntarily place me in a psychiatric institution if I am not a danger to others. And, please, do not involuntarily place me in there if the sadness/depression I am feeling is also making you feel terribly sad for me. And, if I want to terminate my life... it is my right-to-die.)
I am a competent adult. It is my body. It is my brain. It is my soul.




Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, February 18, 2015 10:04 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I'm not sure where one's rights begin and end, w/e. My sister had the right to be a drunk. And the right to smoke three packs of cigarettes a day. The right, too, to be in almost constant state of depression. But all of this probably could have been prevented. If she had been committed. As a young woman. To psychotherapy. But she was in no mood to receive treatment. An argument could be made that she was mentally ill. And needed help. But didn't get it. Because society dictated that she had the right to be a drunk, a chain-smoker, and a mental misfit. Was this merely a slow, methodical way to commit suicide? Maybe she had the right to commit suicide in this form, but not if she shot herself in the head or jumped off a bridge. Who has the ultimate right to draw the thin line? The individual? Or society? Makes me wonder. If the individual has the right to remain in depression as long as she wants? Or do her friends and society have the right to intervene, and do what they deem best for my sister? Or for Julie? Someone in deep depression probably has no wherewithal to make decisions for herself. Can't pick and choose when to come out of depression. Thereby, needs help. Needs to be forced into psychiatric care, Julie has plummeted from 125 pounds, to 98 pounds. She's gaunt. Makes her more susceptible to a bad cold or pneumonia. What if Julie dies this winter. From pneumonia? Should Julie's loved ones and friends have no qualms of conscience? Merely because Julie had the right to commit suicide in slow, painstaking fashion? There are no easy answers to these questions. You declare, w/e, that Julie is an adult...she is not a child despite her mental difficulties...She is a free agent...with human rights. You say that placing Julie involuntarily in a mental institution would be cruel. I'm not so sure about that. It just might save Julie's life. --Jim

Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, February 18, 2015 10:24 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


This space. At the bottom of this provocative thread. Is reserved for Julie. If she wants to respond to what's being said about her. I've told Julie. This could be an effective form of psychotherapy. I'm sure she would find empathy from the likes of w/e and Basha. She's read all this stuff. The next move is up to Julie. --Jim

w/e
Posted: Thursday, February 19, 2015 12:53 AM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


Jim... After I quickly replied. Logging-out. Logging-in again. Re-reading what you had posted and what I had written. I edited a few words. Such as the word 'cruel.' A bit harsh! The rest of my opinions re involuntary placement. And rights remain the same.
If Julie reads this chat, I pray she understands that we all deeply care for her physical as well as her emotional well-being. I hope she doesn't feel disconnected from those who love her dearly.
My dear Julie, sometimes all it takes is a little bit of gentle dusting of the mind to spruce up the sense of self. Believe me, I understand what you are going through. I have been battling my own monsters in the closet. Calling myself names. And feeling like a failure for a whole year.
Coming to Alzconnected and e-connecting with others has helped me tremendously. I feel a bit more engaged.

Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, February 19, 2015 3:32 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I hand deliver an updated copy of this thread to Julie. Daily. She reads. I am encouraged. She has responded favorably. Especially to some of your suggestions, w/e. She knows that we all care about her. That we have empathy. That we all are survivors of rigorous Alzheimer care-giving experience. There is good and solid life in the aftermath. She has seen how I have handled it. Over the years. From beginning. To never-ending. She has met and personally conversed with my dear amore mio, Cristina. She knows we are happy. She knows that Cristina and I met on this very message board. She knows the details of our love story. And she knows that I dearly loved Jeanne. For 38 years. She knew Jeanne. More and more. Every day, Julie is learning what she has to do. That it's not too late. One of these days, she'll be the one. Giving good advice and counsel. To other care-givers. That's what we survivors do. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, February 22, 2015 2:22 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Believe me. Julie has made her way to the message boards. She reads. She ponders. She is gaining insight. Soon, she will contribute. Her own words. She has. Already. With me. And husband Rick. She has turned a proverbial corner. And believe me once again. All of you have helped. With your thoughts. With your words. --Jim
w/e
Posted: Sunday, February 22, 2015 9:51 AM
Joined: 3/7/2012
Posts: 1751


My heart is bursting with love! I am dancing with joy!

Take your time, Julie. No rush. Time is part of life. You need time to think. To ponder. To understand. To forgive. To accept. Eventually you will rise. You will sit on the wings of a monarch butterfly. And gently fly... beautifully.
Let old Jim and dear husband hug you and kiss the boo-boo. You are on your way to healing. And, it feels good.
Yes. Healing from the inside-out without scars (or very few scars). With patience. Perseverance. Courage. Love.
(And, remember. Oftentimes, we have to put some 'coconut oil or olive oil or vitamin e' to the outer layer of our mind to help it heal smoothly. Do something for your self. Pamper Julie. Be good to you.)
Hugs.


Jim Broede
Posted: Tuesday, February 24, 2015 11:53 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Julie is starting to talk a good game. In that she says she's going to do. Whatever is necessary. To get on the right track again. Indeed, that's progress. But not good enough. I'm insisting that she actually play a good game. I want action. Not promises about tomorrow. Some of you encourage Julie to take her time. To take baby steps. To indulge herself. But I also want her to give a hefty tug on her boot straps. Today. No sense in waiting for tomorrow. I'm giving her a pep talk. In order to stimulate action. The rest of you can coddle her. But she needs more than coddling. A swift kick. You know where. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, May 31, 2015 4:51 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Time passes. Three months since the last posting on this thread. Those close to Julie remain disappointed. But we haven't given up. But I'm not so sure about Julie. Wednesday is an important day. Julie has an appointment. With a doctor. For a physical. The first in 13 years. A while back, she had a doctor's appointment, too. And canceled. This time, we won't allow her to back out. Julie lives in fear. And in varying degrees of denial. She's mentally ill. And knows it. But lacks the courage to do something meaningful about it. And we onlookers don't have the guts and wherewithal to force the issue. We are enablers. And we do it in the name of love. But this is not love. It's a prehistoric approach to mental illness. Better to put Julie into a sanitarium. For round-the-clock treatment. For proper care. Until she's on the road to recovery. We have waited and waited and waited. For Julie to take a magical step. How long do we wait? As individuals. As a society. I am tired of waiting. --Jim
cshepherd6
Posted: Sunday, May 31, 2015 11:02 AM
Joined: 5/31/2015
Posts: 1


Hello Jim,
My mother has vascular dementia. I am one of three girls, the oldest. My husband and myself live in the lower level apartment and my mother lives upstairs. She broke her hip in March. I did have help with her, however, my sister, who lives a block away told me she could not do this (help) anymore. Period. I haven't heard from her in 2 weeks. So my husband and I are left with the care of my 91 year old mother. Her care is very involved. I am pushing through. Thank God for my husband.
Mom goes to rehab outpatient therapy. Working her leg to get it strong. The last five years I have cared for both my Dad and Mother. My Dad past away Nov 2, 2013. I miss him so much. I do feel his presence. He did everything for my mom.Now I am taking his place..I go in and out of sadness.
I just signed on to this website and read your postings. I enjoy them very much. You have a great way of communicating and expressing yourself. Well I see I am running out of space... Thanks for your insight.



Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, June 1, 2015 12:44 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


My friend Julie doesn't want people to know that she's in depression. Or that she has a drinking problem. But I know. And I don't always keep Julie's secret. It annoys Julie. That I don't respect her privacy. For a reason. I'm trying to get help. For Julie. And therefore, I find it necessary to explain Julie's problem. To others. I also encourage Julie to talk about her situation. Openly. Honestly. I suggest that would be a step in the right direction. Sometimes, Julie pretends that she doesn't have serious issues. With depression. Or with drinking. Of course, deep down, she knows better. But she finds solace. In pretending. Sometimes, she even convinces herself. That she's normal. And doesn't need help. I suspect that Julie is embarrassed by what she has become. Little wonder. She wants to keep it all secret. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Tuesday, June 2, 2015 5:15 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


As for my friend Julie. If I were her doctor. I'd prescribe several days of total rest. Supervised. No personal responsibilities. Time for doctors to evaluate test results. Both physical and mental. But already I'd know the obvious. Julie is in depression. And she has a drinking problem. She's been in decline. For years and years. I'd determine what Julie needs. To get well again. Starting with extended bed rest. In a sanitarium. Daily psychotherapy, too. And a proper diet. Julie is gaunt. And psychotic. A mere shadow of her former vibrant self. Julie is in no condition to be left on her own. She needs treatment. Special care. Until she can manage herself once again. That's it. In a nutshell, folks. Now let's get to the critical assignment. Saving Julie from herself. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, June 4, 2015 1:59 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Julie saw medical doctors today. She was scheduled for a physical exam. But didn’t get it. Because the doctors wanted to get to know Julie better. They gave her two hours of psychotherapy. Apparently figuring it was better to ascertain her mental condition first. Maybe that’s wise. Don’t know. After all, I’m not a doctor. I’d have committed Julie to a sanitarium or a hospital psychiatric ward. For a complete evaluation. That’s probably what a very important person would have received. Deluxe treatment. Anyway, Julie left the clinic ‘feeling giddy,’ Yes, relieved. She has long dreaded and put off having a physical exam. The last one being 13 years ago. The doctors decided, with Julie’s concurrence, to postpone the physical. Until Julie gets her head straightened out. She’s to see a psychiatrist. Very soon. The doctors speculated that Julie needs extensive psychotherapy. And a mild dose of an anti-depressant. In addition to tender loving care, of course. --Jim