The diary of a cheeky chap: Emotionally maturity?

Today has been a relaxing day mainly spent at my desk catching up on all things photographic or so I thought. This involved sorting through my Royal Photographic Society journals and newsletters and uploading a couple of galleries to my RPS profile. I continued planning my self portrait project writing down my thoughts, ideas and sources of inspiration. Whilst doing so I came across a piece of text from photographer Luke Smith that struck a cord with me, here it is.

“Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, and the things you never want to lose. Yet how soon we lose that impression of what ceases to be constantly before us. It is this Presence of Absence that becomes our past, which metamorphoses into a memory. It is our memory that rekindles the light of the past but can only makes a mournful rustling in the dark. It becomes an internal rumour, the mind’s mirror of what remains when something and does not completely un-happen. Over time memories fade, drained empty of agony and laughter, evaporating time, burying in the mind and becoming a windows to one’s own past.”

Another quote by Ansel Adams got me thinking about my project to “There are at least two people in my photographs, myself and the viewer”.

But I have also begun to think that although not doomed to fail my level of emotional immaturity is going to shape the results of this project heavily. The more I discover, think and feel the more I understand how emotionally immature I am. I have begun to understand that being passionate about something does not mean I have a full understanding or appreciation of its complete worth or meaning. As things stand I am struggling to think rationally about things and I am finding it hard to find any sort of detachment or position to do so. I can only take it one day at a time, attempting to do anything else becomes all consuming and to much to handle. Take today for example I had no plans yet I forgot about a hospital appointment, not for me I might add, but I should have been thinking about it before hand. Yet stepping out from the appointment I began to understand what small steps mean. I cannot even begin to image what it is like to be in pain 24 hours a day and yet not know what the cause is or be able to get relief from it. Again it makes me feel weak willed and immature that I am struggling to cope with my issues yet others around me are clearly struggling more than I am.

I feel conflict within me, an uncertainty that is dark and starting to weight heavy on my shoulders. I am being to wonder if I have the emotional strength to move on and get myself into a better position is getting in the way of being there for those who need support. It is finding the balance between thinking about getting better, analysing my feelings and emotions and keeping my approach simple, short and sweet. Hopefully my photographic project will help me through this turmoil and give me the inner strength and maturity I need. I wish someone could tell my brain that it is small steps that I have to take, as it is not listening to me or is that the other way around?

Listening to the TV today an episode of Holby City was aired where two relatives were arguing about a critically ill parent who was not going to live. One wanted to keep trying the other respect the parents wishes to let them go peacefully and comfortably. It hit home hard as I have been in that situation myself but there were no arguments to be had. I stood firm and made the decision on behalf of my mum’s wishes to cease all treatment other than what was necessary to make her final days as comfortable as possible. Is that the act of an emotionally immature man, after all I made the decision purely based on the words of my mother? There was no way she was going to live much longer and any treatment would only prolong the situation short term. Then I start to think about all the other decisions I have made in my life and whether or not at the time I was best placed to make them. If not at what cost was it to those around me, what cost are they paying now?

Am I being to sensitive, over thinking or am I finally beginning to understand myself a lot better? This wearing my heart on my sleeve is hard work and I am not sure it is always a good thing. An example, I am reading HHGTG at the moment yet it seems wrong to do so, surely that time should be reading about alcoholism or depression? Focusing on a photography project, should I be doing that, will my time be better spent doing something else? I do not know but it is all I know at the present.

I think I need to make a few more small steps and stop thinking and get stuck in. I am beginning to feel uncomfortably overwhelmed to the point where I want to run and hide in my box but I know that is not the answer.

I had never been academically gifted and I am far from the sharpest arrow in the quiver. I have always got by on my emotions and feelings, which are not necessarily a good combination but that is all I know. If I think about it I would not be here today if it was not for the support and love of a lot of people. You know I think I beginning understand that for the first time in 47 years that I may now have to stand on my own two feet emotionally and that I have possibly never fully done so. It is funny what conclusions you can come to whilst sorting out photographic journals.

Now whilst visiting the hospital I took my pocket sized compact camera with me and naughtily took some photographs. Out of order, possibly but I am very pleased with the results.

If you are wondering and I am sure you are, yes I had a drink today, not proud, not happy but tomorrow is another day and another small step. Sounds dismissive doesn't it, well it is not when sat on the edge of reasoning.