Face-to-Face

Well, I already know since my childhood that I’m, let’s say, a “little” different. Sometimes having an acrimonious and black humor what makes me telling jokes, nobody understands and laughs – except me. People maybe wondering a bit about this weird behavior, but that’s never been the crucial issue, caused the really big troubles and blockades in my life. Like I already mentioned in my previous posts, I’m somehow not able to read between the lines. A social skill what is seemingly given to “normal” folks. When people offering me as example, a collaboration and we talk about that, for me this is always like “cut and dried” and I rely on it. I never question such offers or think about the consequences in that moment. Not even afterwards – until I’m getting confronted with the obvious conclusion. Due to the fact such situations been mostly all around my special interests like photography, I’m stuck in that manner – comparable with a tunnel vision. Not able to escape or think outside that box. Though I meanwhile learned that I can’t count on everything what people usually talking, but still every time this happens, I take stock into those promises. And this happened so many times in my life.

A characteristic trait I’m not able to get rid off.

My whole career as a photographer is concomitant with existential fears, an up and down life, like an amplitude and a bone-crushing shortage in desired possibilities. And sometimes I almost got the feeling, that people acting like “we need to prevent that he’s successful as a photographer” what brings me immediately to a few essential questions. Are my pictures really that good? Are they good enough to make my living out of them? I’m like the anorexic person, standing in front of a mirror and thinks he’s fat? I think this questions are in a way absolutely legitimate, because over those many years I’m trying to make my living out of photography, I never reached this goal. Not even to cover my basic needs like paying the rent, health insurance, food or refund my debts. And I still don’t know exactly why…

I meanwhile know that the line between a narcissistic disorder and the autistic spectrum, can be on the face of it, really narrow. And in the beginning I assumed that I’m a narcissist, because I’v seen by myself quite a lot parallels. Over the last two years I’v been dealing a lot with that fact and it still bothers me somehow. So I started writing about my problems, my diagnosis, the symptoms and all those things I’m struggling with. As a form of therapy.

My whole life I was asking myself, whats wrong with me? Why I’m struggling with rudimental social skills, seemingly natural and given to other people? Why I never been successful as a photographer, even with a paramount of talent? Why I’m always so exhausted after social contacts? Why do I have this strong need in being a part of social affiliation? Why relationships exhausting me that much? And fucking why, I’m permanently ending up in such fatal burnout’s and catastrophic situations? Those questions are haunting me my whole life and I never had a coherent answer. I felt like being from other planet, like a salt-water fish forced to live in sweet-water. And even the constant attempt of self-reflection didn’t brought me any helpful answer…