Top of Form Protracted depression is a state that can distress countless persons; however, the way it affected me is difficult to explain. Having lost my capital in the stock market at some point in the breakdown of 1987 (when the market knocked out over and above twenty percent in a single day) I lost quite a bit of capital. I became so hopeless that suicide was honestly my last resort at concluding my distressing and bodily soreness. Those were the times when I was frequently not contemplating unmistakably. The state of affairs that life hurled at me really blunted my sanity.
It looked as if I was powerless to understand that there may be other ways to handle my pain. Actually I never wanted to expire but simply wished for the pain I was undergoing to discontinue. Prolonged gloominess had made me feel valueless and it appeared as if I had no other alternatives at hand.
One day I was sitting in my living room convincing myself to toddle into a sizeable body of water or immersing a live electric device in an occupied bath tub so as to meet death by electric tremor or gash the wrists or jump from a high rise building to the roadway below and so on. Out of the blue…….. The door buzzer tinkled………I paced to the door with an unsteady gait……….and unbolted it at a snail’s pace….. “Are you Mark Daniel?” inquired a young boy clothed in denims and a short-sleeved casual top.
“Yeah precisely” was my valid response
“Hey! This is for you; from your soul mate Ronald Jason,” pronouncing this, the boy handed over an envelope and vanished towards the left narrow road.
I hurriedly slit the envelope ……. “Whee.”………….”ain’t that something?” I was astounded……to find the envelope stuffed with 50000 Benjamins plus a hand-written short letter directed to me and bearing the signatures Ronald Jason. He had referred to me as his soul mate…….
A feeling of extreme exhilaration engulfed me……..I felt euphoric “but wait.”…………I heard myself uttering “soul mate Ronald Jason”
A swift and upsetting dramatic recollection of a funeral service in the past flickered across my brain. “Why! Yeah, I very much attended the burial of my dear friend Ronald Jason twelve years back. I had shown up ten minutes prior to the time of commencement and parked my car a block away. I had even signed the guest book with my first and last name and had found a seat in the row behind the bereaved family. I remember that I had started crying disturbingly in a manner that had upset the other guests. The memorial service was an open coffer service consequently I acquired a chance to head beyond the casket at the conclusion of the ceremony. Grace (my late wife) and I had purchased prepared food from a restaurant for the bereaved family (including Ronald Jason’s old parents and his wife Madonna (who expired two years back owing to breast cancer.) I had very much served as a pall bearer for Ronald Jason; and he was my only buddy with such a name…………..
Why had he addressed me as his soul mate?
Was it Ronald Jason’s soul that had written the short letter and had salvaged me at a time I was grief- stricken?
Had the Divine power forced Ronald Jason to help his friend?
Who would answer all these queries?