Very nice piece. You definitely captured the feeling of it, and what you went through. I was once told photographs are met to tell a story, this definitely proves it. Can't say that I have anything to share, but good luck with your campaign.

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~wekphotography~

hope the message passes on -- and is heard by the masses -- later days

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-- of all the things i lost, i miss my mind the most --
-- let your mind create, what your imagination desires --

This is amzingly poetic. I really like your work. :]

Sadly, all I have is a learning disability and intense stress. :\ But if you think it'll help, I can try to draw a poster for you.... wish I could be more helpful. This is a noble thing you're doing. Best of luck with it.

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Stalker love is the strongest type of love there is.... even if it is a little one-sided ._.

hi you´re pretty and the design are cool , I hope you´re best

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mis links:
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On february 1st, 2003, a "man" entered my parents house and tried to kill my father. he bashed his face in with a large frying pan, and gouged my father's eyes with his thumbs. if the police hadnt kicked in the door and unleashed a dog on him, i have little doubt he would have been killed. there we lacerations down to the skull, his nose was litterally shattered into what looked like about a hundred pieces, and the orbital bone around his eyes was broken twice on the left and once on the right. Surgery was able to repair my dads face to what it was before the attack with the exception of two small scars above his eyes. There are also titanium plates under his eyes to hold them up in place. Its a wonder what modern medicine can do to heal the body.

But the damage to the mind i fear, may be permanent. I cant even begin to express how my parents feel and cope with what happened, and i wont even try, but i can express what p.t.s.d. has done to me.

I wasnt home that night. and until the day i die, i think that will haunt me the most. I think i've played out every possible way that night may have played out differently in every concievable way, rational or not, had i been home. I'm haunted by this horrible, sometimes what seems like a lethal guilt. The two people who had never let me down once in my entire life, and the one time they needed me most, i wasnt there. I've heard it explained a thousand ways by so many people that the guilt is irrational, and none of it is my fault, and i do understand and recognize that, but i'll never believe it. I'll probably never live that down. It's like the devil is always in my shadow reminding and torturing me of something i had no way of preventing. Some days he's easier to hear than others.

for about six months after the attack i was fine for the most part. I kept my head up and tried to make life as normal as possible for my family. then.. My world just fell apart.

It started with these intense feelings that the entire room was collapsing in on me, and i wouldnt be able to hold down any food i had eaten. I lost about 50 pounds in the span of a month, and learned to "live" on the blandest of foods (primarily bread) and water or pop. as it turned out, this was my bodies reaction to high levels of stress and panic. i lived with this everyday for about 5 years. It hurt in such an odd way to go to a restaurant and not be able to eat with my friends. I'd look around at everyone in the place enjoying good food and laughing and wonder if they really truly appreciated that they were able to do something i couldnt, or if they were just taking it for granted. It insulted me to no end when i came to the conclusion that they were in fact, living blissfully in ignorance.
And the questions.. the un-ending questions as to why i wasnt eating anything. was i anorexic? was i this? was i that? How do you explain that in a way that someone else who has no basis of comparison can understand?

"this is my life. As a human being, food keeps me alive, but at the same time, as a victim of something horrible, it's killing me."

i was engaged at the time and I broke off my engagement and dropped out of school. without warning things that were once enjoyable were now repulsive. the first time i realized it was while watching the original halloween movie, which had always been my favourite horror movie. Towards the end i just started screaming at the t.v. and how he had no right to do that to anyone and how john carpenter was a monster for thinking this was "entertainment".
i refused therapy, i refused to let anyone get close, and continued to die a little more each day as this terrible disease ate away at me.

The worst part was when strangers and close friends would say those horrible three words: "get over it." or my "favourite": "i know how you feel" The hell you do you patronizing liar!
How could anyone say that? didnt they think that if i could do such a thing, i would've done it? Would i intentionally let this disease kill me like this? did they think i liked this new "life" of starving, guilt and anger?

And that was a big revelation. my capacity for hatred. it scared me to realize that never in my life had i really known what hatred felt like until then. I'd walk around with this huge chip on my shoulder that everyone could clearly see, and i was just daring anyone to try and knock it off. I knew full well that i was a loose cannon with a hair trigger. This world is so full of murderers, rapists and pedophiles, and every time i'd watch the news or read a paper i was filled with this intense hatred that made me shake, wishing i could personally kill these monsters. Not as punishment really, but so as to make sure they couldnt do it to anyone else.

You never really get over p.t.s.d., but you learn to live with it. Or, you learn to live around it. You re-learn everything about your life and what you thought was important.
it helps to find people who have gone through similar experiences (my best friend for awhile was an ex-marine vietnam vet) because no matter what, without that basis of comparison, no one else really knows what its like.

And dear God, is it nice to find others who know. its like finding a member to an exclusive club you belong to. A club full of those who never wanted to sign up for membership, but are glad for each others support.

theres no therapy you could enroll in or pill you could swallow that can compare to that.

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"Alas.... Under this carnival disguise, the heart of an old youngster still beats, waiting to give it's all.."

cool one ... !!

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www.osnafotos.de

Is this the sort of thing you would like me to provide?

I do have some ideas.

Unfortunately i choose not to influence your work All i have to say is that you can make it as fluffy or a gorey as you wish. It will all be included. This is YOUR experience.. and no one elses.

Luv
Caitie

I should take this a a challenge. I have my own illness. I really can relate.

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"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries of life disappear and life stands explained." mark twain

"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks. " John Muir