• on ‘the other’ in me •

Such an interesting article. I also live with depressive states, and almost word for word, can identify with the descriptions of how it feels. I still go through it, but once I discovered my ‘other’, and became a friend, an advocate, a soother-listener-protector to that child-like, super-sensitive, super-creative, intuitive (did I mention ‘child-like’, oh, yes I did…) ‘entity’, which resides, side-by-side, inside of me (but speaks only in dreams, and emotions, and whispers to me in musical phrasings, and compulsions, and desires, and cravings – basically, all of the so-called, ‘id’ stuff), and learned how to take the time to really ‘be’ with this ‘other’ and talk to him/her/it rationally, to commiserate, and to listen – really listen – and to make plans, and provisions, and promises – to make things better for he/she/it (and too, to really work to keep those promises, at least a little every day), then, slowly, but surely, I came not only to understand that these ‘waves’ of ‘depression’ are really the feelings of despair and hopelessness that any normal person would feel, if he/she/it had no ‘voice’, no power to affect change, no acknowledgement, and felt no appreciation (and little love), but that there is never any reason to feel ‘lonely’, because (if this is a real ‘state of being’ – and I am convinced that it is), one is never alone, and that the process of ‘loving’ really does, start with you/me, see? (Does this make sense/can you ‘relate’?) Hand to heart, this has been a true ‘revelation’, and a life-changing epiphany, for me. It has been about six years since I came to this awareness, and my progress has been substantial and continual, and empowering (happily).
This is the basis of my own particular ‘bi-cameral mind’ hypothesis. I really should write a book on the subject. What do you think, friends? Here is the article.
On depression: What you should know if you love someone with high-functioning depression:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/love-high-functioning-depression_us_591b3519e4b07d5f6ba6af00

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• your friend has a journey too •

• your friend has a journey too •

Yes, a friend will always be there for you.

“Can I tell you…?”

But it’s not always easy.

“We’ve travelled some miles together…”

To watch your daily struggles.

“Maybe, I don’t know what you are thinking, but I know what you want.”

And not to say a thing.

“I’ve been going through this, too. For a lot longer than you. I will help you, if I can.”

It’s tempting, at times, to push away.

“Hang in there. You’re closer than you think.”

But remember, your friend has a journey, too.

~ Tim Burchfield
5/5/13

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• change is inevitable •

• change is inevitable •
It’s just a silly little thing,
Though it’s not amounting to much,
It’s snowing outside again,
And I rather have my heart set on Spring.
It’s bound to come, with the Sun,
Along with buds, and green, and growing things.
For some reason, it calls to mind,
A certain Mr. Eaglestone,
Who used to meet me,
When I delivered his morning paper,
Every single day, with a greeting,
And a hearty grab, and holding it aloft, his prize, stalked to his front door, like a king:
He so looked forward to it,
Which I, frankly, never understood –
Mrs. Tessier was right,
It was just a ‘rag’, but he liked it,
That’s all that mattered to me.
I felt good. I felt proud,
Over such a little thing.
Strange, but heartening.
Then, one morning, in particular,
He had some news for me:
He’d had a minor heart attack,
He could no longer shovel the drive,
And had to sell his Upstate home,
Which he apparently loved,
And had felt “connected” here,
And now, was being forced,
By circumstance, to leave, and,
To repair to his summer home,
In Florida.
We’d never shared more than, “Good morning!” Generally.
And on the spur, I ejaculated,
(I usually say the first thing that occurs to me). “Well…”
“Change is inevitable.”
I don’t know why (I said that),
But his expression, changed,
And he didn’t, anymore, wait for me.
I never saw him again, after that, Mr. Eaglestone,
and he moved away, to Florida,
Like he said he would,
No big thing – but I have thought about that morning, over, and over again, inexplicably.
So, snow, today.
No big thing, just a little snow,
Come Spring.
I was right, I mean, I was, I mean,
It was a reasonable thing to say,
And I do believe it, wholeheartedly –
And yet, I do regret it,
Saying it, like that,
Dismissing the suffering heart,
“Change is inevitable.”
So cavalierly.
~ Tim Burchfield
3/30/15

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