As one may have noticed who has read any of my stories, they often (possibly always) involve something of darkness in them. This is indeed part of my life’s focus, near to heart, and part of the fundamental aim of OOM.
It recently occurred to me that dark things can fall into three categories:
It’s happening again. I’m starting to hate what I love — that which provides an escape for me from the depression and the anxiety. It happened once before, about six years ago when the love of photography was beat of me not by others but by myself.
I immersed myself in photography — learning every facet about it, taking my camera everywhere, trying to build it into a business. I also learned about Lightroom and Photoshop, the editing software most commonly used by professional photographers. The business failed and I felt like a failure as a result. I also felt extremely rejected after some former friends and family members rejected the notion I could take photographs for a living. I set the camera down for a few months and thought about how something I had once loved was now my deepest source of rejection and self-loathing.