… in a glum sounding voice, has taught me that some things you read, could have only been written by someone that had experienced it. Something that even with the wildest imagination, couldn’t have expressed it so eloquently and accurately without having lived it. Keep going Marty, you’re onto/into something deep.

A. A. Milne, who penned Winnie the Pooh wrote something I just came across. I’m just a little horrified though of the thought that someone who wrote something so beautiful, suffered the evils of depression, isolation, de-socializing. Escaping into loneliness and often a quite frightening unknown.

edit: It’s thought that Mr. Milne suffered PTSD from the first World War. Go figure! God damn wars!

I think he did though and if my feelings are correct, he was masterful at taking pure evil, and turning it into empathy and compassion for so many well beyond his years.

edit: I’m wise enough to know I have a Wife, two Sons, a very dear Family and collection of wonderful Friends outside my mental ‘stick house’ there for me and I am so very grateful for you all. I’m wealthy beyond imagination in what means the absolute most to me. But for now anyway, I’m just a donkey under a lean to. Wishing others understood my thoughts but afraid they might. Just asking for understanding, not agreement or sympathy. Thank you all for stopping by and sticking around.

No more, no less!

Please read! Please?
It occurred to Pooh and Piglet that they hadn’t heard from Eeyore for several days, so they put on their hats and coats and trotted across the Hundred Acre Wood to Eeyore’s stick house. Inside the house was Eeyore.
“Hello Eeyore,” said Pooh.
“Hello Pooh. Hello Piglet,” said Eeyore, in a Glum Sounding Voice.
“We just thought we’d check in on you,” said Piglet, “because we hadn’t heard from you, and so we wanted to know if you were okay.”
Eeyore was silent for a moment. “Am I okay?” he asked, eventually. “Well, I don’t know, to be honest. Are any of us really okay? That’s what I ask myself. All I can tell you, Pooh and Piglet, is that right now I feel really rather Sad, and Alone, and Not Much Fun To Be Around At All. Which is why I haven’t bothered you. Because you wouldn’t want to waste your time hanging out with someone who is Sad, and Alone, and Not Much Fun To Be Around At All, would you now.”
Pooh looked at Piglet, and Piglet looked at Pooh, and they both sat down, one on either side of Eeyore in his stick house.
Eeyore looked at them in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“We’re sitting here with you,” said Pooh, “because we are your friends. And true friends don’t care if someone is feeling Sad, or Alone, or Not Much Fun To Be Around At All. True friends are there for you anyway. And so here we are.”
“Oh,” said Eeyore. “Oh.” And the three of them sat there in silence, and while Pooh and Piglet said nothing at all; somehow, almost imperceptibly, Eeyore started to feel a very tiny little bit better.
Because Pooh and Piglet were There.
No more; no less.