It’s amazing what you can get across in a photo, but even more amazing what you can hide. A smile can disguise sadness, sunglasses can hide the pain and torment in your eyes.
A picture tells a thousand words… but not always the truth. I deliberately take photos of my head and hide the rest of myself. No one can see the excess me that has accumulated over almost 7 years. No one can see the monster that is CRPS in my right leg. The thing about pain is that it is mostly invisible. We can go about our day and nobody knows we are screaming inside. No one can see the fury, the raging, the hellfire, unless we let them.
Take the Mona Lisa for example. Every one wonders what she is smiling about. Everyone wonders if she is hiding something. Maybe she is. Maybe she is masking sadness. Maybe she’s not. No one will ever know except her.
‘You are looking well’ is a comment we most often get when others see our photos. How often do we actually share our truth in our pictures?If I put up a photo of my truth, I would be a twisted, teary, red mess. Bloodshot eyes from no sleep. Scrunched muscles. Tear stained cheeks. I am not a pretty crier. I take ugly crying to the next level. The actors in Hollywood look so beautiful when they cry. Single tears rolling perfectly down their cheeks. Not the redness, the uncontrollable blubbering, the shallow breathing, the inability to get words out, not to mention, the snot (told you iit’s not glamorous!).
If I can, I avoid sharing photos of myself. Honestly if I can avoid being in a photo I will. If I have to be, chances are you will find me hidden in the back, trying to stay out of focus. I don’t want people to see who I am. I don’t want people to see what I have become. I want to stay hidden in the shadows. I can’t even stand to look at my own reflection. I pick myself apart. If only I didnt have this. If only I didn’t have that.
(2 weeks ago)
We lost our grandfather this year. A man who I loved and respected. I was lucky to spend some time with him a few weeks before he passed away. But I don’t have photos to remember it by. I didn’t take any. I hate having my photo taken that much. I have now missed out on a previous memory and that’s something I have to live with.
I’m the one behind the camera. I like to take the photos of other people. I love to take landscape photos. The photos that capture the beauty around me. I take random photos of my husband, when he least expects it. I take photos of my fur children. My nieces and nephews. But not me. I want them to have memories. I want the memories of them.
I look back at my photos and wish I had appreciated things a bit more. I wish I had seen myself the way I can now. I look back and see a body I wish I still had. The ability to wear long dresses, jeans, long boots, even knee length shorts.
Sometimes I can tell myself that it’s time to look forward, not back. Look to the future instead of the past. But sometimes it’s hard. I remember things and I smile. And then the smile fades to sorrow as I mourn the future I was supposed to have. Photos can’t show us the future. It would be great if they could! We shouldn’t stop taking them in fear they will remind us of what we have lost. They show us the memories we should treasure. So take more photos. Be in more photos. Print your photos. Treasure what was. Use them to keep you moving forward. The person in that photo wouldn’t want you to stop living your life. They had hopes and dreams, and so do you. I am going to try. No filters. No cropping out body parts. Just truth.
My nephew took this photo. I tried to smile… I was hurting and worn out. But I wanted to be with them. I love my little humans.
#CRPS #complexregionalpainsyndrome #mentalhealth #depression #anxiety #breakthestigma #nofilter #showyou #showyourtruth #dontbeafraidtobeseen