Window to the Soul

I've been an actor my whole life, in every sense of the word. I found a home under lights and standing on a stage, and eventually made it my professional career. I've also been a fantastic liar who's been able to pull off a lot more than I probably should. Strict parents made sneaky kids - I was no exception to this. In moments of the highest necessity, I can hide every dead giveaway. But in a state of zapped mental and emotional energy, I found myself unable to hide it from the lens of a camera.

I got broken up with at the very beginning of November. It was a "I'm not ready for love" kind of situation. I don't don't harbor any resentment for it especially since they were just doing what they thought was best, but of course it left a major sting on my heart. I spent weeks without sleep, cried more than I have at any other point in my life, and had to truly fight the irrationality in my thoughts from blaming myself for the entire ordeal (which was much easier said than done). On top of what has absolutely been the hardest relationship end I've ever had, the rest of my life decided to collapse on top of it all. My little brother caught COVID-19 alongside a drug abuse problem that nearly killed him, and the beginning of December almost took my dad's life in a surgery gone wrong. Put that together with friendship troubles, an eating disorder, and coming out - it was a mess under a totally unstable roof. Life was feeling like a bucketful of sand that were slipping through my trembling fingers. I was doing everything possible to keep myself at least semi-happy. It wasn't working.

On a December afternoon, I regrettably got myself dressed to go to one of our local parks. I felt terrible that day and there was nothing more I wanted to do than stay curled in my bed and pretend to not exist, but I had made plans and felt guilty at the idea of flaking on one of my oldest friends. He was taking me out to teach me some of his photography skills and wanted to do some test shots with me. I somehow managed to get my depressed ass out of bed and into his car when he came to pick me up.

I don’t remember the ride over. I barely remember walking through the gardens as he showed me how to adjust the camera settings to get cool shots. What I do remember is my lack of speech. I’m talkative, but I didn’t want to speak at all. I felt like too many words would make the dam break and I would burst into tears. My brain kept flashing images of my former partner and my heart just kept sinking and sinking. The person who I thought was the most beautiful human I’d ever seen now created a nightmare I couldn’t escape even when awake. For the hour or so we walked around, I only managed to snap a few pictures while an ocean of misery drowned my brain.

My friend eventually pulled the camera from my hands and showed me a gorgeous looking bush covered in small lilac flowers. He playful instructed me to pose, exclaiming with joy and how wonderful I’d look in this patch of sunlight. I put on a small and I tried to do just that. A few typical shots here and there, me putting on my best “model” face, and a multitude of camera clicks. He flipped through the shots with a toothy smile on his face and instructed me to come over and take a look.

I’ve seen myself miserable. I know what I look like crying. I can picture how twisted my face gets in an uncontrollable surge of emotion and panic. It isn’t something unfamiliar to me by any means. But this was different. Because my face was faking the professionalism and hiding the grief deep in my gut, but...my eyes couldn’t.

Shot after shot I saw it. A lack of light behind in my eyes that sent a chill down my spine. A depression that couldn't be masked. A darkness that made my brown eyes dull and lifeless. I knew what I was thinking about as those pictures snapped, and I could see it all in reflected back in my eyes. It made my stomach sink. I've always said that eyes are the window to the soul, and in that moment they were a clear view at the heartache and mental exhaustion that was covering every part of me.

"They look great," I lied.

I managed to continue to fake it for about an hour as we walked through the gardens, occasionally stopping to snap a few more pictures. I didn't know how to tell him I just wanted to go home - I didn't want to disappoint him. I pulled a few honest pictures off that ended up looking pretty nice, but after a while my brain couldn't help but drift back to my former partner, and then to how difficult to hold together my life had become.

"Hey, are you okay?" I snapped back to reality at my friend's question. He had lowered his camera and was looking at me with concern. I had zoned out and gotten lost in the jungle of my thoughts, not even noticing his camera had been pointed at me. I was too tired to keep trying, and quietly asked him if we could go home. Without another question, he nodded and we began to leave. The long walk back to the car felt cold even in the Texas heat. My dissociation left me deaf to the world around me, and I walked with my eyes down at my feet, my only focus being on making sure I wouldn't start crying.

Once we were in the safety of his truck I broken down and spilled everything that had been going on. I cried about my ex, my family, my friends, myself. I was a mess, but he continued to give me his undivided attention and listen to my sob story. After my swell of emotion calmed down, he started the car and informed me he was treating me to dinner. It was the first meal in a long time that I was happy to be eating, and I went home full that day.

It's now the middle of February, and I'm happy to report that things are much better. The full story of that will be for another time, but let's keep it at the fact that I sought out the help I needed, and did a whirlwind of healing and reflection. A week ago I received the pictures we took that day, and to see myself in that state...to know what was truly going through my brain as we snapped those pictures...It hurts, you know? Some of them did come out nicely, but a majority of them will never see the light of day. I can't bare to use them for anything because of the tangible sadness in my eyes. It makes me sad to see how utterly devastated I was then, not knowing of the pure happiness I would feel months later.

Nowadays, my pictures are much more genuine. My smiles are real and my eyes sparkle with a newfound love for life. A few people have told me that I look like the best version of me they've ever seen - confident, determined, and in love with life. All of that is so accurate, and It gives me so much joy to say that. My eyes are windows into my soul, and now my soul exclaims a love for life and a declaration of healing.