QUESTION: I recently had to call the emergency services for a friend.
He was almost starving and desperately ill. A mixture of depression, drinking and perversity has led to this crisis. He won't accept help, as he wants to keep his independence. But once, when I intervened, he was apparently hours from death. I seem to be the only person who knows where he lives and calls for help.
I have to move soon, to look after my parents, but as I don't trust social services not to close the case, I fear that leaving town would be a passive way of letting my friend die. What can I do?
Yours sincerely, Ed
ANSWER: Have you ever considered the possibility that your friend actually wants to die? I wonder how grateful he is for your constant interference? It seems to me that every time you snatch him from the jaws of death, he recovers, only to get himself in exactly the same situation a couple of months later.
Perhaps there's a bit of him that's absolutely longing to self-destruct, a bit that will be much relieved when you leave him alone. He's made it clear he's depressed, he drinks, and he wants to do his own thing with no help from anyone else. He's not one of nature's victims. He knows perfectly well where his drinking will get him eventually and he has made no efforts to stop.
Another possibility is that, the moment you leave the scene, he will be thrown back on his own resources. No longer will he be able to depend on you to come galloping in at the eleventh hour like a knight on a white charger. No, if he wants to live, he'll have to make some changes in his own mental attitude. It could be - I'm not saying it will be, but it could be - that your leaving will be the best thing that ever happened to your friend. He'll be forced to take responsibility for himself.
Or, of course, it could be that I'm wrong on both counts and that your leaving the scene will be the final straw that tips him over into an unwelcome death.
But even if you are right and this last scenario is correct, you cannot be responsible for every lame duck that comes your way. I used to have a great penchant for lame ducks. They used to come squawking and hobbling after me, pecking at my skirts, slowing me down, keeping me awake with their constant quacking and in many ways preventing me from living my own life.
Now, I'm not saying that I've cast off everyone I know who needs help. I welcome people who are temporarily lame, particularly if I can offer advice or sympathy, and God knows, I'm often lame myself and need the support of my friends. But I've managed to shed those about me who are completely unhelpable.
You have tried your best, Ed. You've done enough already. And I'm sure that before you leave town you'll do your best to alert social services and neighbours to the situation so that your friend isn't left with no sources of help at all. But you are now going off to look after your family. You can't heal every wound; you can't care for everyone. You can only do what you can.
I hope your friend lives. But if he doesn't, you won't have yourself to blame. You'll have yourself to congratulate for not allowing it to happen earlier.
The Independent