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2004-09-03 | 12:18 a.m.
sorry, dubya. i can't stand with you when i can't stand you or what you stand for. understand?
tonight i came home to a super-long message on my answering machine. wrong number. a mental health counselor was calling a colleague to update her on a patient's condition. the patient was a woman suffering from depression.
i listened to the whole message, so that i could get the call-back number and let the counselor know the mistake. but before i got to the digits, i had to hear about all the prescriptions this woman was on (four separate pills) and about how she had big trouble with boundaries and no sense of self, all while being easily overwhelmed and collapsing under the slightest obstacle. oh, and how she was unhappy with her psychiatrist and new support group, although her attendance record was commendable.
hooo, boy. that was a loaded message. first, i feel badly that i "overheard" this woman's private business. secondly, i felt sad that anyone would be that unable to cope with life. finally, i realized how petty my blue moods seem in comparison.
when i left a message on the counselor's answering machine, i ended the call with "thank you." it was a rote ending to a call, but i guess, on reflection, that i really meant it.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry