Snapping My Way Out

For as long as I can remember, I've battled anxiety and depression. To be perfectly honest, I can barely remember a time when I felt completely content and at ease for any prolonged period of time, partiulary in recent history. That being said, I was able to trudge my way through life pretty successfully without anyone noticing. Like millions of other people around the world, I put on the "smiling mask" and functioned as the world expected me to, a great career, 3 great kids, all in all, a great life. Whatever needed to be done, I could, and would do it. "No" wasn't in my vocabulary. I was the strong one, the super woman who could do it all and look good doing it.

Until I wasn't. All that "greatness" eventually came crashing down around me. That's the thing about the smiling mask, when it falls off, it falls hard and it smashes into a million pieces, taking you down with it. I crashed and burned, and I did it the only way I knew how, at full speed and in a blaze of glory!

Fast forward a while, and after about a month of hiding from the outside world, a diagnosis, PTSD and Depression. Both of which made perfect sense given past events in my life. Then came various treatment options, medication, therapy, etc., which were helpful, but after the "crash", I still wasn't quite the same. The mask I had worn for so many years was gone, or rather, it no longer fit. I found myself unable (and unwilling) to fake it anymore. Simple social interactions like going to the post office or keeping an appointment, left me gasping for breath, trembling, and full of rage. Routine errands required days of planning and at least two sleepless nights as I agonized over every single potential scenario, both possible and completely imaginary. The normal things people do every day left me exhaused and more often than not, seeking the solace of my bed and hiding under the covers. More meds dulled the panic, for a time, but then became less effective.

I became a shadow of my former self and a prisoner to my own mind. My world was getting smaller and smaller each day. I knew I needed to do something. I desperately wanted to do something. Then again, I didn't; doing things required mental and emotional energy I just didn't have. Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, my husband and I settled on the path of least resistance - outside. It was the perfect solution; get out into nature. Fresh air, exercise, and very little chance of having to interact socially. It was slow going at first as I learned to navigate life outside the bubble I had created for myself.

I began to notice that our little excursions left me feeling energized, yet nicely relaxed at the same time. I was beginning to feel pretty good. I also noticed that I was always finding cool things to take pictures of, landscapes, seascapes, sunrises, sunsets and animals. I started looking forward to, and even planning, our outings around my desire to take pictures. Something about capturing the world around me through the lens and the challenge of getting the shot "just right" gave me what I needed, hope, passion, purpose. I was waking up excited, truly excited, about what each new day might bring for the first time in ages!

I'm miles away from being a professional photographer, but that's okay. I found something that allows me to express myself constructively and that gives me a sense of accomplishment and joy. Even better, I can spread that joy by sharing my photos with others.

The shot of the geese I chose for my cover photo isn't the best picture I've ever taken, but it's a perfect metaphor for both what nature photography has contributed to my life and where that life stands today. I took it yesterday. There was something about this family of geese that drew my attention. They were just sort of bobbing along on the choppy waters of the St. Mary's River seemingly letting the waves carry them to their desired destination. The adorable downy babies made my heart sing and somehow, they reminded me that no matter how choppy life's waters get, there's always calmer seas ahead. Sometimes, you just have to ride the wave out. Better yet, those brand new little geese reminded me that renewal is possible, maybe even inevitable, whether it's new life, a new passion, or a new adventure. Life may never be perfect, and I'm not the person I was a few short years ago, but that's okay. I'm learning to accept my challenges, myself, and the world around me, all through the lens of my camera.