An Occurence, all worth an HOUR

I hit a breaking point.
So, after my meeting last week with the one (formally known as Jerkface), I was (you guessed it) contemplating. I was also by myself, editing my crazy Canadian Music Week photos when I get a call about the use of my riot photo from the anti brutality riots...
from the HOUR.
Not the show but a weekly (one of two popular ones in Montreal). Paid and published I was. It was a turning point to the Hell I had put myself, the fact I got the call, any call will do (as long as you credit the crap out of me).
I've been feeling good as of late, maybe the weather or the fact that in my head, I'm starting to put together pieces of an incomplete puzzle.
Funny that for a photographer I've lost focus, especially in the last year. I've been at my best but I've still have a ways to go, especially in the redemption dept. I've done this over and over and yet, these things keep happening, the fall from grace all because I'm not man enough for myself. Or the selection and perspective I have about who enters my heart (or in most cases, my pants).
It's not a man bash but more of, more me less them. I should never think of them in the higher sense or think that they might care or rely on their expectations.
I accidentally watched a new school episode of Degrassi, I was tired but still, it's Degrassi. A girl, typical bright, pretty, the usual: wants a guy to like her. She gives up her virginity, for what, so he can like her. She felt awful more because she gave it up for him, not herself.
I'm certain that I've lost it way too many times.
I'm thinking of the many times I've done things for him, not me.
The following come to mind:
lending him money
taking out a student loan
almost quitting my job
almost falling off a balcony
doing the open relationship
certain acts I can't even name (yes, they're dirty)
keeping quiet when you know he's dead wrong
keeping quiet about the no job situation
trusting he can keep a secret
letting him call me names
getting drunk when I can't drink no more
trying to be emotional unavailable (even when dangled for months)
I'm thinking if it weren't for all of the above, that I have to come first, then my photo career and degree, along with self esteem, confidence and even an apt, would have come sooner or happen...NOW.
So guys, love you to bits but look at the damage done. You are the most useless saving graces in the history of the lineup, I ask myself if it's all worth losing myself to. At 29, I shouldn't be weeping like a 16 year old all because I want to be liked. Yes, I would like to be liked but I think I've given enough of my attention.
I would like to give my attention to:
my flickr account
my contact list
people I meet on shoots
helping out someone who needs an ear (or a picnic)
publications I've interested in
I don't normally get the call but I figure if I do follow up, they will call more often than any guy I've seen in the last two years.

Don't want to be THAT girl

More thinking, more to sort after this long winter.
It wasn't that bad this year however it gave me time to sort out what the Hell happened to me. The feeling is mutual in relation to someone being held captive for a long period of time and freedom is felt for the first time.
It's there, you suspect it and the memories of being held prisoner is not forgotten.
Call it a syndrome, I know it has been long since what happened. Not just the whole open relationship thing (it does play a part) but more the whole "I fell apart and nearly destroyed myself" part. I can't shake it off and it haunts me. It's going to take some time but it's there.
We all moved on but I can't seem to stop punishing myself.
I got into this mess more vulnerable than I've ever been in my life. The last known event of vulnerable with a side of self destruction was when I finished CEGEP and didn't get into a program at University. I figure I would go with the flow however I seem to be the type that needs structure and a schedule. I fell in love with an actor wannabe who would telemarket and smoke pot.
Great choice in guys.
He kind of dumped me for someone who wasn't boring: a hitchhiker/stripper who I found out not so long ago, kind of psycho.
I hit a low point and nearly hurt myself bad, for the next few months I drank heavily, scared my friends, tried to bash my skull in and nearly got raped.
Yes, I'm one of those, the kind who may self destruct if nothing falls into place. What fell into place was an application to a photo program that I placed in my sister's hand one day before the deadline. I had photos I took over the last two years and time before work to write one hell of a letter of intent.
Photography was and still is my saving grace and now I need something like that again. Before it was a hobby but now it's a career.
Cut to now where I fell down, my perspective went under when my ex found himself another girlfriend (still with her, probably because she has a better line of credit). Then someone in my circle started getting more photo jobs, when you find out that my job saved my ass 9 years ago you kind of figure out why I get pissed when I lose jobs to that guy. The battle between talent and networking rages on.
Then I went to that place, that dark and uncertain place where your perspective changes, it grows darker and you tend to trust anyone or any idea that can make you happy again.
So yes, the open relationship was a good idea (through clouded judgement).

I'm not really mad at the couple (or couples now) but mad at myself. I've become that type of girl. The one no one remembers, the one left behind while everyone lives happily ever after. The trash you take out, the drinking the night before that you don't quite recall. I don't want to be left behind or forgotten, no one knows how to end these properly.
I learned the hard way that I'm not that type of girl and shouldn't have vocalized it.
He brought the new one to the bar that night, I only knew of her as he met her which meant I was off the hook (not in the relationship but not part of the strings attached in the "other relationship). Just sex and hockey games for me.
I was insulted that he brought her, I don't hang out with the 'others'. I never meshed with the girlfriend, what gives guys ideas that girls that they are fooling around with would become the best of buddies. We are women: catty, jealous and capable of destroying self esteem.
My jealousy was of not wanting the guy but more that there will be no room for me. I knew she would be for keeps, the other relationship was on it's last breath (if it weren't for the open relationship they would have broken up months before). She was in, I was out.
Yes, in this you stay friends with the ex
you start committing to this new being
but what happens to me?
Left out.
I became THAT girl, she's cool and casual, this wouldn't bother her. It did and I made it evident. I didn't want to be responsible in destroying a couple but instead I destroyed myself. No guy is interested in someone who was leftovers, she smells of open relationship. To not factor at all.
It gets me thinking if I factor at all, do I have any impact in anyone's life. I question that a lot.

I learned recently that when you reach 29 this is when you ask the hardest of all questions: what is my place? Do I have a real identity? Am I a good person? I've reached that point where I can say this: I'm a good person who does stupid things.

I don't want to say that the situation itself was stupid, mainly the way I treated myself was. I was drinking badly, falling for my own worst enemy of loser guys with even bigger insecurities and drinking habits. Smoking (again and again), being offensive. Worst of all, I majorly did some damage to my wrist, now how am I going to work as a photographer?
Actually, can I still work as a photographer?
For the first time, my saving grace wasn't able to be there. I got scared, what am I going to do. Am I going to be THAT girl: generic and nothing special.

We all know that being generic is something I'm not, quirky stories and all. I'm not the one who likes to let people down but in the last few months I have. I'm let myself down and now I'm playing one Hell of a catch up game. Sure, the first encounter in a while was me filled with anger but I really can't be "la dee da" about what happened. I made a mess and I feel like I'm still paying for it.
I feel like sometimes guys have this ideal that girls are not supposed to fall apart or have "issues" if there are it has to be solved in two sentences. I realised that dealing with me hasn't been a cakewalk but that's what I'm facing right now. That we know (and I know) that I'm not meant to be THAT girl.
But I don't want to be left out too. That usually happens after dealing with drunk and destructive, you tend to make a lot of mends. That's why I needed the time off.
One of these days I could meet the new girl (not so new anymore) and not be mean to the ex. The fact that I've admit it is one step, however I still have lingering memories where I was held at my own will (mentally).
Time heals sh**ty wrists, let alone a shattered heart and a lack of ego.

A Long and Hard Look

I've had a full last few hours, mainly as a person and as photographer. We’re back to this. I know that this is becoming an ongoing theme however until this is resolved, this will be the topic in question to whoever listens, reads or understands. We can relate to being in a place in our lives where we think we should be at but we’re not.
The fact that I think its time to face the fact, I'm not at a place in my life where I should be.
Should is the word I tend to focus on:
I should be freelancing more
I should be writing more (less about me, more to an audience)
I should be more career, there is a place for creativity, less casual about
I should stop being lost and confused
I shouldn't go down.
I'm down, trying to get up. I've done this before, one too many times. I don't know if I have that feeling of achievement when it's been scripted. I know this play by heart.
Then why the Hell am I not performing this to the audience.
The last few weeks I stepped away from the spotlight, went out of the radar. I hid from the confines of my social life and thought about what my game plan should be. I've been stalling, I've been afraid...afraid that this could either go two ways: bad or good.
My feedback has always been good, she's got talent, she's got poise. However...
However there is this shadow, this darkness that has a hard time believing that there is good, there is hope. That this is too good to be true. And then, it goes away. The goodness is there, I wish I can believe it can be a permanent resident in my heart after years of revolving in and out of my life.

This past weekend I was in Toronto, I was covering Canadian Music Week, the perks of being a photographer with ideas, they actually take you places. I ended up taking pictures of bands in amazing venues in downtown Toronto. I've been focused on being a better photographer these last few weeks and it shows. I see what I'm about to shoot, I'm aware of my surroundings. I think I'm back at the level I was a couple years before I sort of lost interest.
Glad that it's there. Now if only I can do that in my personal work.
I was staying at a friend’s; he's actually a friend of my ex's (the one who took off with my money). He is normally an in your face, to the point, right wing, ADD driven asshole who pushes my buttons and well, I need someone to push my buttons to get the work done.
He unfortunately has fallen on hard times and like the economic crisis, is in need of a bailout. More for his mental well being than his wallet. Hasn't worked in months, living in a filthy bachelors and popping pills to sustain another day of numbed living. He has good days, I encountered the bad when you combined alcohol with self loathing and revealing a suicide attempt gone wrong. This was hardcore, this was real. This is something I am familiar with.
Suicide not so much, the fact that this being the true last resort means that I’ve not hit rock bottom. But the fact that I think it does cross some minds now and then. The fact that I know the role of the self-loather looking for answers, looking for a way out of these situations. I know this role and I know it’s hard to deal with this type of person but let’s face it; there are a lot of us out there. We’re living in not so ideal situations. In the last 18 months I’ve lost friends to other cities because of the job situations, I’ve seen friends struggle in search for work, relationships I’ve question and worst of all, the need of addiction in the form of alcohol and meaningless lust (or relationships consisted of nothing because of a fear of not having someone in the room).
That’s a lot going on in my head, hence the stuck feeling.
My friend is ok as it can get, I know he’ll get out of it. I hope he’ll get out of it. These are trying times, it’s hard to be creative when all there is is real, if you try to escape it feels like you’re neglecting the hard truth at hand, to face them head on.
I really hope he’ll make it out ok, I just don’t know when.
Hope, that word again. I hope for a lot of things:
To be happy without guilt
To take pictures without either intimidation or sheer frustration
To know that my friendships have no strings attached or limitations
To believe that there is such thing as stability
To know that when someone falls down, they can get up
Here’s the big one, to know that there is no such thing as running out of ideas.

I know this guy who tours from city to city, telling strange exploits from his eclectic life. I met him starting out freelancing and he gave me advice about the idea of making some money in the process. We found out we share a common connection of self-awareness in our storytelling. Curiously is what we craved, the sense of exploration in what is out there got me to explore some things about myself I didn’t know existed:
Such as true confidence.
I found my confidence form someone who only sees me 10 days out of the year. He sees it in my words, my images and in my doodles. I believed in that, I believed for the first time that this could be done, creativity as a job, because he’s doing it.
Then came last year, this was me out of it. My world crashed and I was self destructive, being the 2nd rate/3rd string in the “open relationship” and not doing great photo wise. He returned with a show where he struggled, he had a hard time writing it. He was having a tough tour.
This was not supposed to happen, he was my rock. He was the hope I needed and here he was, struggling. This was the first time I saw that no matter how creative you can be, you could run out of ideas. The jig was up, we’re doomed. I lost more confidence and drank some more. I didn’t want to admit it but even heroes can be mortals too.
He’s back on track doing other forms of performance however I won’t be seeing him in town. That’s the sad part; I’ll miss the insights and the strong hugs where it felt like he’s protecting me from the harsh world. I feel betrayed but do believe that there is only a small ray of hope that creativity will be back on track.
That word again. Will you stop giving me expectations?

Which brings me to today. I did take pics of bands all weekend, but when I got back I got a call to cover the anti brutality riots (it started as a demonstration however when I got there it gotten out of hand). At the same time I gotten out of hiding and decided to see the guy (formally known as jerkface) for the first time in months. I needed to figure things out; he didn’t want to deal with what I went through in Toronto with my friend (me playing the role of the self loather).
I knew that the clash between police and demonstrators would result in the destruction of property and udder chaos:
And I chose to be in the heart of the action.
At first I was pissed that we lost the photographer and I got back into town 20 minutes before. I was more pissed that jerkface bailed out on me for the 64th time (now here’s someone who knows more about bailouts). And with an angry, tired photographer stuck on a city bus while cop cars bombard the streets in search of an angry mob there were two things I could do: wait and fume on the bus or get out and find the mob. Helicopters swirled the city, crowds and cop cars going into a direction that would lead me to jackpot. I ran and ran until I found the show down between riot cops and crazy mobs. I ducked rocks, debris and anarchy. I was getting a high from risking my neck for photos. By the end of the day, it was this feeling of satisfaction knowing that I had the balls to sustain something I would have avoided. This rush of confidence of doing this without doing anything stupid. It wasn’t that hard.
What was hard today was looking at myself in front of jerkface, sitting down and talking with him for the first time and dealing with the problem at hand. If I had the choice between the riots or dealing with my problems I would settle for the riots.
That hard.
To deal with mistakes that feel like you would want to take the easy way out.
I had to do this, do you think it’s easy to stay angry with someone and with myself at the same time. I didn’t want to go there but it had to be, we share the same social circle and he now knows of my flaws. Real big flaws such as self-loathing and lacked confidence. Real sexy. No wonder I feel like I lost big time. The feeling of defeatism is mutual if you’re on a team that is going nowhere, not winning but not losing so much where you lose control and you miss the playoffs. I know the game plan was going to change, I was going to have to adapt to it. However a few things had to come out because for once I felt like I had to fend for myself:
I don’t befriend the girlfriend, either current or past tense
I am not 2nd rate/3rd string (I keep telling myself this)
I am currently by myself looking for trust and friends
Can I trust you as a friend?
I may not be hopeful but there is a part of me that still thinks that there might be good. Can I still find good after losing trust, losing myself. The fact that what I did before, the open relationship. I knew that this was wrong (my gut knew it) and yet, I kept going. Throwing myself into this mess over and over. Hurting myself on many levels. And worst of all, someone knows of this. He explored into my dark realm. Now, how can I redeem myself after what happened?
I kick myself all the time knowing I did this stupid thing, being a thing. I’m more than an object:
I’ve been told I’ve been awesome
Caring
Passionate
Honest
Wonderful
My all time favorite: confident.
He sees that in me but is not into me, I know that. I should know that, I haven’t been myself in a long time and here I am in the bar, facing the music to admit that I haven’t been a good person (to myself and to others). My friend in Toronto has pushed away people and has isolated himself. I don’t want to be that person, I also don’t want to be that person who is angry and writing these words this late in the night. I don’t:
Want to stay angry
I don’t want to keep hating myself for nearly destroying myself
I don’t want to stay stuck
I don’t want to lose trust or lose people
I don’t want to keep hurting myself.
I remember two years ago I was happy, I finished school, photo was great. I was making friends and had hope. I miss that person; I was naïve to believe that opportunities would drop on my lap. I knew that there was going to be dirt on my hands, instead I now have scars. Scars that show and tell a story of trying to figure out where I fit into the scheme of things. Of messes that I would have to explain, in a rare case, to admit that I did. I have to stop punishing myself and others. To search for answers in other people and when they let me down, to not rely on their hope when there’s have disappeared. It’s up to me now, I know there is some hope as I was gutsy to go into flying objects and mass destruction. It’ll take time for wounds to heal, the scars to remind me that I cannot be stupid about my life. I have to deal with the fact that it’s going to be tough, go with as little hope as I can. It’s better than no hope at all. I’ve been good the last 6 weeks; I’ll still be going. It’s up to me now to create my happiness.

I’m not done yet, I’m still here.