Dear Prudence,
Just over a month ago, a good friend from college with whom I speak twice a year wrote to ask if I’d like to go on a November cruise with her. She said she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather invite and would pay my way. I wasn’t particularly excited about the prospect—she can be very domineering. But I got a little wistful about our college days and I accepted. About a week after that she called to say that she would be admitting herself to a residential psychiatric facility in my area because of a lifelong problem with self-harm. She asked that I get her at the airport, have her stay with me for three days, then take her to the facility. I told her that I couldn’t because of other plans. She then said she’d check herself in another time, but was thinking about suicide. So I let her come and it was awful—she was acting out in hostile, manic, and passive-aggressive ways. She is a psychologist herself and while she can be funny and engaged, she constantly argues with clerks, waitresses, colleagues—anyone she encounters who doesn’t know how to de-escalate, badgering them to call her “Doctor,” and so on. She stayed at the hospital for a week, then checked herself out because she said they didn’t know what they were doing, and flew to another facility. We are supposed to depart less than a week after she is discharged. I am now terrified of what being with her in a small cruise ship cabin might do to me. She told me that she hadn’t purchased insurance, “So we have to go.” Please help!

—Overboard

Dear Overboard,
In journalism there is a phrase called “burying the lead,” which means not starting with your most important information. Your lead should have contained the fact that your deeply disturbed friend is a psychologist. Your letter is the reason that when I recommend people seek counseling—which I do all the time—I should add the caveat to avoid therapists in worse shape than they are. It’s a good thing your friend sought help. Her problems are severe and it’s encouraging that she can get herself such long-term in-patient care. But the week after her discharge is not a time for her to be bobbing in the middle of the ocean, or for you to be sharing tiny quarters with her. Among her many problems, this cruise is evidence of her impulsivity and bad judgment. (Public service announcement: If you’re buying tickets for a cruise, get insurance.) You cannot go. We know she’s capable of self-harm, but you don’t want to be the one jumping ship just to avoid another night in the cabin with her. So what you do is tell her that right now the trip is a terrible idea. Say she’s not ready, and you will not be going. Even without insurance, given her long psychiatric hospitalization, tell her to present this information to the travel company. It’s possible they could work out some kind of deal with her because it’s very much in their interest not to have her aboard. You could also offer to pay some amount you can afford because you are leaving her high and dry, but you are not obligated to cover the entire cost of your ticket. Let’s hope that when she’s discharged, she will have a treatment plan that will make her function better in every realm, including her job as a therapist.

—Prudie