Under a clear sky
I search for answers;
None come,
Only memories
This is a photo from my archives. I don’t think I’ve shared it before on the blog, just on Facebook and Flickr, so it should be new to most people.
I had meant to post something else today but I’ve had a hard week. Last night was three years since my father’s suicide attempt and I’ve been finding it quite difficult. It’s basically been three years of hell and while I keep thinking it will get easier, it never does. Maybe it never will.
One of my friends suggested that I use photography to try and focus on something positive today and so, as I didn’t feel up to getting out to take any photos, I decided to look back through my archives instead. Which is when I came across this.
It’s from back in late 2012 and it’s one of my favourite photos. Perhaps it’s the water or the light but I have always found it very peaceful and calming and I often come back to it when I am having a bad day.
I also find it quite positive as no matter what I am feeling, it always reminds me that the sun will rise the next day.
I took it on a walk, looking back towards Clovelly Beach, and looking at it I can still hear the wind roaring around me and the seagulls calling and breathe in the rich smell of the ocean.
People often ask me if I miss Sydney since moving to Newcastle. The answer is yes and no. I don’t miss the noise and the traffic etc but I do miss my friends and the culture and beautiful scenes like this most of all.
This was the Sydney I loved, the Sydney I was heartbroken to have to leave just a few months after taking this, when everything fell apart.
Interestingly my father was with me at the time I took the photo. I feel like that was one of the last real moments we shared together, before he disappeared behind the mask of someone I didn’t recognise.
Mental illness is a terrible thing but I think one of the things that doesn’t get talked about as much is how it impacts the people around them. How families suffer watching the person they love transform into someone else; how they can suffer horrible abuse but have to endure it because they are not the priority; how their lives are interrupted too and are never the same again.
Families and friends are the silent victims of mental illness. I just wish they received more attention and understanding. I know it would have made a huge difference for my mother and I and helped us in recognising that what we were experiencing was not acceptable and that we weren’t alone.
I hope you like the photo and the haiqua and that perhaps, if you’re having a bad day as well, it can help you find peace too.
Photo © CJ Levinson 2012
Haiqua © CJ Levinson 2016
