Life before photography

A life of depression, anxiety, self-harm, and attempts to take my own life. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever written.

When I was a child, I felt different from others I was around. I was a shy kid and lacked confidence. I spent most of my childhood on my bike. A place I didn’t lack confidence. Falling off, injuring myself, and breaking bones was regular occurrence. My poor dad was forever fixing my bike or taking me to the hospital so they could fix me, while my mum was smacking the floor. “Naughty floor”.

School was hard. In primary school, I struggled with the basics of even reading and writing, which continued into high school. High school was even worse. It was big and busy; the teachers were scary, and now maths was done with letters instead of numbers. I hated algebra as much as I hated Shakespeare. The only part of school I enjoyed was any part that involved being outdoors, and at twenty past three, when it was time to go home. I think school hated me as much as I hated it. School was a place where I got punished when asking for help if I didn’t understand something. So I stopped asking for help. I think I became afraid of asking.

My teenage years were the point in my life when I started losing my way. In my late teens, going to a bar or nightclub was the norm. I disliked being in crowds for various reasons, which I still avoid at all costs. That’s where alcohol and drugs helped. They gave me a confidence I’d never experienced before, but in hindsight, only made things worse. During my early twenties, I tried to move away from both drugs and alcohol. That’s when the level of my anxiety and depression went through the roof and I began self-harming as a release. Some of my cuts were that deep they needed stitches. Now twenty-five years old, the lowest point in my life to date. The doctor placed me under a psychiatrist and a counselor, along with medication. But I became a master at hiding my issues and problems, in reality only lying to myself. I pulled myself off the medication and chose a method that worked for me: self-medication. Back on two of my biggest demons: cocaine and vodka. At twenty-eight, I took an overdose. Over one thousand painkillers. A mixture of Paracetamol, and codeine. Between this time and the age of forty, I received help from various counselors/therapists and continued to self-medicate. But I wasn’t willing to help myself. My turning point was in 2020, at forty years old. I climbed a fence, walked onto the railway, and stood there in the middle of the tracks. My will to live had packed up and gone. It felt like a lifetime when I was standing in the middle of the railway. With no trains arriving and feeling like a complete failure, I climbed back over the fence and walked toward the station platform. Both the digital noticeboards on the platform read: Train delayed. That was my turning point. This year, 2024, will be four years that I’ve been clean of two of my biggest demons: cocaine and vodka. Although I have had the odd pint. I continue to take prescribed medication and still struggle with depression, anxiety, and sleep. Negative thoughts and feelings are still present during low periods. That’s where my love for photography, the outdoors, and wild camping really help. Photography is my way of expressing any negative feelings by turning them into something positive, often calming and soothing. The opposite of how I’m really feeling. "Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain but to add colour to my sunset sky"

I’m fortunate enough to have people in my life that care, but I also understand what it feels like to be that low. It feels as though you have nobody. You don’t want to talk to anybody and would just rather curl up under a rock and never wake up. Change must start with you. You must be ready to make a change. If a small percentage of you doesn’t want to make that change, that small percentage will win over the majority every time.

I discovered photography in my early twenties, but my real photography journey began in 2017. At age thirty-seven. My mum and dad bought me a camera as a gift, a Panasonic lumix G1 with a couple of lenses. After the G1, I got a Panasonic lumix G7 and then the Panasonic lumix G9. I still own all three of the cameras, but twelve months ago I moved from Panasonic to OM system following the release of the OM1. The OM1 paired with Olympus/OM System pro lenses is next level. The computational modes within the camera encourage creativity. It was a real game changer for me, as I use photography to express my feelings. To express my feelings also means being present outdoors, when mother nature greets us with her presence, and that’s where you’ll find me, with a big bag on my back, just me, my camera, and my tent, immersing myself in photography and nature whatever the weather. The finest form of medication that’s available.

Photography supplies me with a voice that I can use to express myself, a global language that’s understood worldwide. It gives me the confidence that I once got from drugs and alcohol. I can express my feelings in a way that is meaningful to me. My photography has become an outlet for my emotions and thoughts.

If you’ve read this far, I can’t thank you enough, and for anybody reading that has struggles of your own, express what’s going on for you in a way that’s meaningful to you, and ask for help if you’re struggling. Letting someone know that you’re not coping isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength. You deserve to be heard, and your needs are important. You also deserve to know that other people are struggling too, even if they say nothing about it.