Disquietude & Evolvement

anxiety Photography filmmaking depression Letting go cinematography Shadows light

I'd like to tell you the story of the eyes that changed my life.

“Even if I may not harmed, my heart may fail me in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter i may suffer--both in waking, from my nerves, and in sleep, from my dreams.”

She's always anxious thinking she is not living life to the fullest.

“I've spent most of my life and most of my friendships holding my breath and hoping that when people get close enough they won't leave, and fearing that it's a matter of time before they figure me out and go.”
― Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way

And so, she wakes up every morning trying to walk away from the shades of fear, of losing one's breath, of words stopping in her throat when she need to talk, of trying to just simply live .

Truth is that, she shines brighter than the sun. Her soul lights up the lives of whoever around her... but she doesn't know it yet.

No matter how close you are, you can never understand the desire to talk and just stay silent instead.

You can never understand the panic attacks and how the breath just stop right before it hits your lungs, as if your atoms are trying to tell you that they don't want to proceed into this life anymore, but you're dying to just live.

You can never understand the dizziness of freedom.

I think this is what we all want to hear: that we are not alone in hitting the bottom, and that it is possible to come out of that place courageous, beautiful, and strong.

She is beautiful. She can teach you how to be courageous and strong with every battle she goes into with her lungs.

“You were talking about the wind," he said

"A wind that carries off your washing. But I'm speaking about cyclones. Typhoons, Gaffsie dear. Tornadoes, whirlwinds, sandstorms... Flood waves that carry houses away... But most of all I'm talking about myself and my fears, even if I know that's not done. I know everything will turn out badly. I think about that all the time. Even while I'm washing my carpet.

Do you understand that? Do you feel the same way?”

silence is a lie that screams at the light.

She can breathe. She just forgot how to. She forgot that trees never die, but evolve, again and again every time.

And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

“For so many years, I couldn’t understand why every time I thought that someone finally loved me, like… for real, they would eventually turn to vapor. Every person whom I’ve ever loved is trapped inside of my chest. I’ve breathed all of them in so deeply that I’ve nearly choked and died on every soul that I’ve ever given myself to.”

When she comes out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, always. But never she was allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory was replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when she see how her illness has affected her family, work, love, everything; while she struggled to survive.