The split

They say I'm a polite person, but there's someone who I have been obnoxiously rude to.

I completely withdrew my attention from them. I completely ignored them whenever they attempted to speak with me, and I assumed the worst of them. I believed they had no value. I believed they were useless, pathetic, would never do anything good for the world. I abused them verbally and psychologically. I behaved in this manner for years.

Because I was disgusted by them I was oblivious that my behaviour was not okay. What's horrible about this is that we had to spend a lot of time together. They began to wish that I would die, and who could blame them? We were deeply entrenched in a dysfunctional relationship.

Eventually the pain of having been a pariah for so long led to a deep rage and this person became destructive. This person is not a whole person, but a part of myself who has been separated from me. 

I am not entirely without fault in my damaging behaviour. This separation, when this aspect of myself became seen as a foreign entity lodged inside me, happened at large long before I existed. Before me, there were psychologists and psychiatrists who expounded that depression is a problem which needs to be managed. Before me, people were obsessed with achieving and being productive, and they still are. So when I began to exist and when a sadness was inside me the culture of self control and emotional management was deeply entrenched in my world. I began an unconscious excommunication with sadness.

This estrangement has been punctuated with brief sharp jabs of spite. Once I wrote to them: "If I ever commit suicide it would be only to kill you. Never as a tragic mishap in a war against my own abilities, but because you are a disability not worth living with." Because emotions live in a part of the psyche that precedes language, our arguments would be a combination of my own malevolent use of English and their deep raging dance. It thumps in my chest, painful and restless. 

I had the opportunity to speak with this alienated entity a few nights ago in a focused state with another person there to guide the process. With a lot of cajoling, patience, pain and fear we spoke. In a voiceless voice they said "I don't trust you because even though I live in your heart you have given me no love." 

So I learnt that I have been unbearably cruel. I am learning that people in this society are far more cruel and unkind to themselves than they would dare to be towards others. And sometimes unconsciously so. We are taught to block depression, advised to avoid it through medication. We divorce ourselves from sadness and are so hell-bent on disassociating with it that it begins to feel foreign.

Now my depression and I go on romantic dates. They still dance a wild pounding ache in my chest but when I stop to listen (instead of panic over the irrational pain), and say nice things like "hey baby I can see you" or "you're welcome here" or "what's up?" they lay heavy and flat and stare. This hurts less. I'm hoping that despite the years of senseless abuse I've aimed at this fugitive, we can integrate into one whole being who feels all feelings without having to internally bash and split themselves up.

Here's to a loving relationship with all of your selves.

Three cheers for deep depression!
So bold and wise and free!

Who like a glass of wine

Adds flavour and depth to me

(hee hee hee hee hee)