Dusty lenses

IMG_3794It’s March 15th and I have taken 166 photos total in 2016. Now I try and remember that this is just from my “big camera” and there are plenty of memories on my phone but we all know what happens to those phone photos.

Nothing. They just sit on your phone.

I started taking photos when the kids were little. But I had always sort of had a bug in my ear about photography. It started with a short stint on the yearbook committee and a dark room that I can still smell like it is in the next room.

But camera gear is expensive. And when Devlynn was born, I relied mostly on my mom to take photos because even though I had a small camera, diapers were more important than film.

I bought my first DSLR with money I earned making a logo. And it took off from there.

There are 100s of thousands of photos in my collection. Until now.

Because I don’t love it anymore.

Depression is a funny thing. It is a thief of joy. To put it mildly. Anxiety coupled with depression? They’re like the Natural Born Killers of joy. Taking you out piece by piece and laughing all along the way. My depression tells me not to bother to take the photos and my anxiety reminds me I am not good enough anyway.

Together they say, “why bother?”

“Why bother” is winning.

Baseball has started. I am hoping it will rekindle that spark I had. I do love sports photos. I can say it’s one of my favorite things to shoot. But after watching all the things my anxiety said I couldn’t do, pass before me… I stopped shooting games too. Because anxiety tells me that I can’t edit like that person and even if I could they wouldn’t hire me anyway. I’m not a man. And I am definitely not one of the boys. And my gear is so old, who am I kidding. Hello again anxiety.

After Davis was born I took medicine for awhile. I can say it helped me not feel sad or anxious but reality was it made it so I just didn’t feel much at all. And I had to decide whether I wanted to be not sad or I wanted to be me and sad sometimes. I picked me but there are weeks and days and hours that I think maybe it was the wrong choice. Because it’s really exhausting to hate everything about yourself. And even more tiring to be sad all the time. I’m tired of being sad.

And I miss being the me the sad is stealing.


I’m just not sure what to pick.

This morning was a rough one. Last night was really the start. I sat trying to turn in an idea to 99Designs but had a baby crawling up my leg, two big kids wrestling loudly and a 4 year old wailing over a 8 hour old boo boo. And I was alone. Baseball practice. And I snapped. And everyone got yelled at because I just wanted 20 minutes to work. Or 20 minutes to watch a show without someone crawling up my legs. But everyone always needs me. And I never get a moment alone. And I don’t have anything that’s “me” because the sewing always waits for laundry and I always come home to insanity.  And we’re constantly going and the introvert in me is dying slowly and painfully.

So this morning when Davis pulled his typical sloth game, I snapped at him and when I asked him what was wrong with him, he said he was lazy. Who do you think taught him that? Me. The crushing sound of those words coming out of his mouth. I think I will hear it forever. Hearing “lazy” is different then teasing him about being a sloth. To think you’re lazy? When you’re just a boy learning. Shame on me. Shame on me. Our voices are our kids thoughts. So often I forget that. So very often.

Hopefully he will forgive me and I can tell him he’s not lazy. Because he’s not. He’s 11. And he needs to learn how to be a man. At 11, you still sit on the couch and it’s always someone else’s fault and it’s my job as his parent to teach him…  not scold him and make him feel like something he’s not. Because while he’s sort of slothy,  he’s always witty and smart and kind and wonderful in so many way. And we’re not all a million miles a minute.

I have to get out of this cloud so I can be a better mother.  But I am just not sure what to pick. I can’t let my sad be my kids’ futures. I just keep thinking of the therapy bills. And I can’t figure out how to fix it…





Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

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