At the start of the pandemic, I picked up my camera with a plan to improve my photography and capture memories of Elise. Photos have always been important to me, particularly of family and friends. My memory is poor because of my multiple complex conditions. Having visual prompts allows me to recall memories and feelings that otherwise might hide in amongst all the other things, including complex PTSD. Over the past year (ish), I’ve been rediscovering myself through photography. It’s become a real passion, so I thought it was high time I shared a little about my photography journey with you.
*Note: All photos below have been taken straight from camera, with no editing. I’ve included them to share my progress, not because they’re ‘perfect’ (or even close!).
When my Botox injections for chronic migraine were postponed (the first time) in May 2020, I had to reduce my screen time to minimise deterioration. Using my camera quickly became my favourite screen-free activity. It allowed me to do something for myself, while also being with Elise and giving her my attention (she’s an excellent subject).
I wasn’t planning on getting this deep, so bear with me…
Photography has been healing in many ways.
I’ve found that I prefer to take photos using Live View when I’m with others (family visiting our garden, adhering to COVID rules). I feel like I’m still very much part of conversations, compared to using a viewfinder. Saying this, there’s something special about the feeling of blocking out the rest of the world and focussing purely on what I can see through a viewfinder. I love both, for different situations.
Photography has also been a creative outlet, in a way that I haven’t had for many years – since my hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome deteriorated to the point where I wasn’t able to play my oboe any more.
My photography has improved a lot over this past year. I’ve still got a long way to go, but that’s part of the appeal for me! I love constantly learning and trying to improve. It’s one of the reasons I loved being an oboist.
This post was supposed to be a post about me starting my journey into analogue photography. Of picking my Grandad’s camera up and entering the world of 35mm film. But it’s morphed into something else, and I’m ok with this. It’s a big achievement for me if I’m honest – to be able to allow things to unfold, without feeling like I’m not good enough, that I’m not doing things right or that I need to regain control. It’s a very freeing feeling and one that therapy has played a big part in me getting to. PTSD has taken a lot from me. Rediscovering myself through photography is helping me grow through it.
When I’m feeling anxious, picking up my camera is soothing. It allows me to refocus on the image I’m creating. Usually this is in-the-moment things, like Elise playing. I’m wondering whether holding the camera has a part to play in its soothing nature. Almost like a physical barrier between me and other people. When I’m feeling anxious, the viewfinder is the way I like to take photos and block out the rest of the world.
My first photo in manual mode
Photography has become a form of self expression for me too, allowing me to grow through my trauma. This is something I’d like to develop throughout 2022. Something that I’ve struggled with due to my complex PTSD, is being seen. I’ve recently been able to identify the traumatic experience that has led to this and am working on healing from it.
Rediscovering myself through photography; trying things out, expressing myself without having to find the ‘right’ (or any) words. One of the things that I’ve found most difficult about complex PTSD is that, until recently, I’ve not been able to explain what my emotional flashbacks are from. They come with no memories or images to help me understand the trauma my body is remembering. It’s impossible to explain to loved ones how I’m feeling and why, when I don’t know myself. Therapy has helped me understand these emotional flashbacks, their triggers and what they’re triggering. There are still times when putting things into words just isn’t possible (I’m also dyslexic) and in these moments, photography is there for me.
Creating and (sometimes) sharing my photos, feels like a safer way to be seen. Because it’s after the fact, rather than in the moment. I don’t worry that I’ve said or done something wrong to the same level, because I can take photos and edit them to what I want, rather than feeling like what I’m doing isn’t good enough (whatever unreasonable standard that may be at the time).
I really enjoyed creating this ‘not all disabilities are visible’ photo (unedited). I’ve decided to do a personal photography project around disability issues. All self portraits, because everyone experiences living with a disability and/or chronic illness differently. I feel that it’s important to acknowledge this, by creating images around my truth.
Through photography, I’m able to be creative and express myself in a way that I haven’t been able to for many years. It’s quenched my thirst for learning. I’ve grown as an individual, a Mum, a content creator and more. Rediscovering myself through photography is likely going to be a lifelong journey, and that makes me smile and helps me look to the future and all the wonderful family moments I’ll be able to be a part of and capture.
If you’re interested in my journey into analogue photography, keep your eyes peeled as that post will be coming soon! Want to follow along with my film photography journey? I’ve set up a dedicated film photography Instagram account!
What do to centre yourself and grow? Do you have a favourite creative pastime?
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