Mental Health and Photography - Canandaigua Lake

Anxiety sucks.

I talk a lot about my experiences with mental health and how it relates with my photography. The two aren’t as closely tied as you might think. I didn’t turn to photography as a means of dealing with my anxiety. Rather, I re-engaged with it during the darkest times of my life. Times when leaving the house was difficult and panic attacks were normal.

Photography was never the means of recovery, however, it did play a pivotal role in my motivation to get better.

Have you ever noticed that life isn’t always perfect? Things can happen to you and to people around you that just seem unkind, even unnecessary. Yet they happen. Life doesn’t always go to plan and some things hit harder than anticipated.

I always wanted a simple life. Married, 2 ½ kids, white picket fence, 9-5 job, and a commuter vehicle. You know, the American average. Although, I’d take the full child over the half. It didn’t feel like a big ask given how common it was in the lives around me. It sounds pretty simple, right?

My perception of the lives around me was ones of ease and simplicity, like they were coasting through life without struggles or issues. People accomplishing all the things I dreamed of while I go to bed at 7PM each night because I wanted the current day to end.

Amazing what social media does to one's perceptions of others.

The reality is everyone has their struggles. Everyone is going through something. Some are more obvious than others, some are more dramatic, some don’t even seem like a struggle. However, none of us will truly understand the degree of suffering each of us experiences on a daily basis.

All that to say, though I will share about my struggles here, I mean in no way to communicate a belittling of struggles you may be going through. I am not here to generalize mental health and say I have the one solution. My walk has been tough, it has been complicated, and I’m not completely out of the woods. I share about my walk not to cure you, but to be an encouragement to you. I desire to communicate that you are never too far gone. There is always hope. I’ve lived in a place of no hope. I’ve wanted to give up.

I remember a time where I’d take pictures at Canandaigua Lake almost exclusively. I’d share them on my social media platforms with varying degrees of responses. Some people would love them, while others got quickly bored. They’d often ask if I would ever take pictures anywhere other than Canandaigua Lake.

I’d make a special effort to share my beloved photos with those closest to me. I was proud of my photos not purely due to how they turned out. I was excited to share them because I had accomplished something outside my comfort zone. However,. their response would be, “I’ve already seen this one.”

Unfortunately, they hadn’t.

I had taken the photos that day. But my anxiety and where I was in my walk with mental health did not allow me to venture out to new, more interesting locations. Frankly, the Canandaigua Lake area was already a stretch for me. However, I went there often. At times it would be just to feel the lake breeze on my face and try to forget how trapped I felt every day.

The reality is that very few people in my world understood the challenges I was facing. To this day they may not be able to sympathize with how difficult it was for me to leave the house, and at times, to stay home. Not feeling safe every day. The uncertainty of how I would ever improve. Being an adult yet cowering at things that were tame.

So I got out and took photos.

Canandaigua lake was far enough away to feel productive while close and familiar enough to feel safe. I would wander around the pier to see the boathouses and hike up and down the gravel walkway of Kershaw park. Some days were better than others.

I took my first ever long exposure photo at the pier (top of page). With my travel sized aluminum tripod, I set up shop on the edge of the concrete and tried my hand at a photo taken at night. I took 100’s of photos of the boathouses, only to be disappointed. It always seemed other photographers' versions of the same shot far exceeded mine. I befriended seagulls and ducks. Though pictures of them were harder to come by. I would go alone. I would take pictures alone. But I felt safe in my loneliness.

Fortunately those many trips and repetitive photos drove me to new locations. They helped shape my ability to change camera settings for better exposures, look for specific compositions, pay attention to the natural lighting, and so much more that has manifested in photos featured in this blog. If you see a photo that you like, chances are it was influenced by this time in my life wandering around Canandaigua Lake. It was a challenge to say the least, however, I wouldn’t be where I am today without it.

Having a camera in my hands gave me a purpose for being out of the house. Intending to take photos gave me motivation for getting off my butt and leaving my security blanket. I needed to branch out and I knew it. Photography didn’t save me. Photography gave me a reason to get out and challenge myself in areas I struggled.

My desire is to share my life story with you all. My passion is people. My hope is to give you hope. Photography is simply a means to this end.