Monday, December 10, 2018

Dr. Jedidiah's Diary Episode #10 My Life Before and After Demi


Dr. Jedidiah is a psychiatrist who loves traveling, meeting new people, and exploring different cultures. As a single father who lost his wife to drug overdose 10 years ago, he has not been his old perky self for the last decade. During those hard years, he has met hundreds of, thousands of people from various walks of life around all over the world. Meeting new people and listening to their stories outside his office have given him different feelings from the ones through the formal encounter groups or support groups for therapy. These people he has accidentally come across were the paths through which Dr. Jedidiah could look back on his own life, being truly honest with himself. Here is Dr. Jedidiah’s monologue that has left him with some food for thoughts in life….or a fodder to justify his own mistakes in the past.


Episode # 10. My Life Before and After Demi
It was a lazy afternoon when the lung-freezing, gelid air outside made it feel warmer and more snuggly in the cozy little nook of my personal athenaeum. I was enjoying this halcyon moment of daily dose of lone time in my rocking chair away from my nerve-racking grind, patients, duties as a husband, and desire to gain fame or glorify my days with a decade-long empirical research conducted at my office. However, it was not a nap time for me. It was more of a time slot during which every flakelet of my scattered thoughts about life is finding its place like jigsaw puzzle pieces in their right places. While I had been savoring this quiet but very rewarding time and space to myself getting closer to the lost clues in my own life, my better half Demi had been gradually and painfully estranged from her own fountain of happiness.

The wall clock in my room stroke upon 4 P.M. when I heard a distant, but distinct tinkle of a glass breaking. I instinctively thought Demi was in trouble. If someone had watched me that moment, they might have thought I was going berserk with deep feelings of doubt about my wife’s fidelity, because the first place that I ran to in search of that noise was my wife’s bedroom. No one was there. Bathrooms checked. Walk-in closets checked. Sun room and basement checked. Even garage checked. My search for Demi was to no avail. After more than half an hour of looking for my woman in my own house, I heard some faint sound of sobbing coming from the corner pantry in our dining room.
Demi was burying her head inside her balled body, weeping but smiling at the same time. As her eyes met mine, Demi slurred her words. “Go away! Just leave me alone! You ain’t seen nothing, honey….” What freaked me out more than her words were the disposable syringes strewn across the floor inside the pantry along with broken pieces of wine glasses. I was lost for words. I just said to myself ‘Why!…. Since when?....’

That day was the most shameful day in my entire life as a shrink and as a self-proclaimed devoted husband. How could a woman, who has a Psychiatrist hubby, be so lonely and hopelessly eaten up in her own trap of misery! Had I ever sat with Demi in her pain without sparing myself even when I was worn out after work? No. Not even once. I used to come back home at 6 P.M. sharp every night, but my physical presence had not made any difference to dredge my wife from the seabed of inner turmoil and extreme loneliness. I’d zone out most of the time while she was talking at dinner table. Some may say “Love is the shortest distance between two hearts.” Demi and I were in love, but too far away from each other to hear or see the inner holler over the years.

Had I not lost Demi to drugs and alcohol, I could never have tried to change laymen’s twisted perception or prejudice towards the people struggling to find peace through their last resort: substance or alcohol. Whenever they get hit by the unwarned visitation of solitude, they could turn to something that is not judging but just waiting for them to be reached.

For the past decade, I have spent more of my time to raise the matter of overlooked victims and their families of drug and alcohol abuse than in the simple rehab treatments provided at my clinic. Each time I meet those families affected by drug and alcohol abuse from all over the States, I can tell one thing for sure about what they really want. They and their family members victimized by substance or alcohol needed someone to be all ears to their problems without criticism. They are not outcasts. They are not losers. They are just lonely souls.


Expressions
   
   1.   gelid: (adjective) very cold, freezing, and icy

    
   2.   athenaeum: (noun) reading room/ library

   
   3.   halcyon: (adjective) calm and peaceful

   
   4.   grind: (noun) backbreaker/ hard work/ study

   
   5.   flakelet: (noun) small piece

   
   6.   to go berserk: to go crazy/ to go uncontrollably mad

   
   7.   self-proclaimed: (adjective) proclaimed to be or described as such by oneself, without endorsement by others

   
   8.   to zone out: (verb) to lose concentration or become inattentive


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