It was at this point in my pregnancy with Addie that I attempted to end both her life and my own.
Much of my life story can be told through pictures. Bad boyfriends, vacations, new friends, old friends, bad outfit choices and even worse hair choices.
But there are no pictures from that three month long period of my pregnancy with Addie.
There is really only one picture from my struggle with depression this time around. And I think it kind of speaks for itself.
It’s hard to look at, but I’m grateful I have it.
These were two of the darkest seasons of my life. Having photos from them would only proves to be a constant reminder of how much was wrong, despite everything looking right through the lens of a camera.
Camera lenses can be excellent liars in the hands of a skilled person, I perhaps am a better liar. I can plaster on a smile for a camera that would never alert you to just how broken and destroyed I am inside. But when I look back at the photo? There is a place in my heart that aches, knowing that girl in the picture was lying with her whole body.
There is one photo in particular. I can’t stand to look at it. I haven’t even bothered looking for it, it hurts too much. That I could put on that convincing of a show…
Periods of my life remain photographically dark for good reason, however when the light comes back…so do the photographs.
The first photo I took at the end of a horrible 2009 was this one…
My love for that man has continued to grow exponentially every single day since this photo was taken.
Just as I have to be so careful about the people and outside influences (mainly the media) I allow into my life no matter how healthy my brain is, I must also control what gets remembered with such permanence as a photograph.
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