White Wreath Day

I had the date marked in my calendar well in advance. I had to ensure I actually remembered to check a calendar so that I could be reminded. I felt like a part of me would chicken out. I felt like for some reason I wouldn’t belong.

I didn’t know why I felt it was so important. Maybe I thought it might be an important step. Maybe I could connect or reflect. I tried to push myself to become a part of it all, though I still felt like a spectator.

I feel very uncomfortable photographing people who are not comfortable with me. I become agitated and I worry I am interfering. It’s not that I find it difficult to deal with others’ emotions. I’m just afraid to disturb people. I’m just afraid of confrontation.

On this day I was aided by the knowledge that what I was hiding was the reason this event was taking place. It turned out to be worthwhile. I was comforted by the openness of the subject. At least for a day it did not seem taboo.

I can’t recall a time I’ve made a significant error photographically. I generally embrace mistakes and accidents, or I simply don’t worry about them.

On the way home I discovered the first error. One roll of film was one half of what I’d taken. Yet, I still felt able to shrug it off and instead continue to embrace the earlier real experience. I could have shot more, but I didn’t want it to take over. I didn’t want to be a nuisance.

Later came the final straw. I approached it as any other time. However, as if to remind me of what initially lead to the date marked in my calendar, I tripped and fell again. Another rung missing, another step broken… I gave up. I gave up once again. Overcome with anger, overwhelmed with frustration… It could already be too late. Any chance to salvage was slowly disappearing.

There was that feeling of something working against me yet again. But I’ve grown since the past. Just as I don’t need a saving light, I know the crippling darkness is only in my imagination. So I tried once more.

The results are far from perfect, but I have results. The struggle of the journey is etched all over them. The ugly marks are prominent and they make no excuses. But they are real. They are imperfect and they are real.

White Wreath Day is held around Australia on the 29th of May every year in remembrance of all victims of suicide. It aims to publicise the issue and contributing mental illnesses.