I Love a Good Mystery - Except This Kind!

They say everyone loves a good mystery. It's kind of exciting to peel away the layers on a plot to finally get down to "whodunit". I've wondered about this one since it happened and I by no means take it lightly. In fact, it may be a cautionary tale for the unsuspecting. I'm sure many people have been ensnared in such a situation.

This is about a friend in his late sixties whom I'll call Rick. He lived in the same city I did; owned a house there and a cat. He'd say the cat owned him. Nice guy, divorced, and had a hard time getting beyond it. I think he felt it was unfair and couldn't figure out why his wife so unreasonably left him. An affable guy, he had a fair amount of friends, plus a few relatives locally. He and I would go out for coffee occasionally. There we would "solve the world's problems" - or just talk about his ex who was now happily remarried. It was clear that he was depressed by a situation that would just not disappear with a divorce decree.

I knew that he dated, but not much. It was like he was in search of a suitable replacement for his wife. As far as physical description, he was a bit roly poly, but not hard on the eyes. He was a good communicator and had a sense of humor.

A few years ago, someone(whom I'll refer to as Lisa) messaged Rick on social media. Could they have a friendship? He showed me her picture at one point: a drop-dead gorgeous blonde who was on a medical assignment in an African country. It concerned me when I found out which one since it is notorious for scams and schemes. Still, he believed in her and she in him, without a doubt. Yes, it did involve some exchange of money - for airfare and the like - so she could make it back to the large city in the midwest where her grandmother lived. When he explained that he had no money to spare, she didn't drop him, but continued to express interest in him. He remained encouraged, and against advice from family and friends, persisted in hoping that they might meet some day and follow through on plans they'd made via email and frequent phone calls. After awhile he became a bit hesitant to talk freely about her. His family seemed quite insistent that he was asking for trouble. But he still spoke hopefully to me about it when I asked how things were going.

"I'm going to give it a year and if things don't work out at least I tried," he told me. "After all, I don't have anything better to do with my time." It was true. He'd quit his job - he'd had enough. Maybe he was just plain tired. But the bills kept rolling in and pretty soon utilities went off, one by one. He struggled to find ways to get help and partially succeeded.

The last time I'd asked him about Lisa was when the year had vanished. He'd come to the conclusion that it wasn't going to work after all. He was a beaten man and I didn't want to push for details. He'd felt he'd disgraced himself to his family and friends. Unfortunately, many don't understand the desperation of loneliness and consequent depression and desperation.

Then I saw a message on social media from a good friend of Rick's that he had been found one early morning in December, passed away in his recliner. A close relative would be posting information on arrangements for all his friends and acquaintances. It was sad to learn that news but I had questions I dared not ask anyone. What had happened, I had asked myself. Was it because of his huge disappointment in things not working out? Was it from loneliness or was he just tired of living? He was way too young to have had things end as they did.

I guess my take-away from all this is when you're the one who is down and out, get help. Help is not necessarily leaning on a stranger who inserts him- or herself into one's life. The unfortunate "addiction" to Lisa, perhaps just as with a drug, drove him further into a false comfort zone - until reality set in.

Finally, if you see someone who's having a problem coping, be a friend - a friend who encourages the depressed one to get some help, some sort of counseling that helps ease the burden of what that person is struggling under. I tried to get through to him in a subtle way; perhaps I should have been more direct. If that person doesn't choose to listen, you can even tell a relative that you're concerned. The other avenue which can always be done - with or without that person's knowledge - is prayer.

I'll never know for sure what took his life away. His health seemed okay, but maybe the stress of his desire for a future with Lisa with virtually no support from family and friends affected his health. Investing that heavily in an unknown is never worth that type of risk.