by Laura E. Partain

*Self Portrait with my Fuji TX1 Panoramic Camera and custom Chicken Tramper camera bag.*

Crawling through brush while regarding the presence of snakes, ticks, and fire ants. Walking deep into rivers and lakes. Climbing a snowy peak in the dead of winter with borrowed boots and spikes. All of these points read like lines out of an outdoors person's adventure resume. However, these are all instances I've experienced as a professional photographer. Crawling through brush while regarding the presence of snakes, ticks, and fire ants. Walking deep into rivers and lakes. Climbing a snowy peak in the dead of winter with borrowed boots and spikes. All of these points read like lines out of an outdoors person's adventure resume. However, these are all instances I've experienced as a professional photographer.

My name is Laura. I go by Laura E. Partain professionally, though often enjoy going by Half Pint (my trail name) when hiking. I've always been whimsical, sentimental, and an emotional person. I grew up country and have a lifetime of childhood memories running through brier-ladden game trails and wide atv paths in the backwoods of East Texas. I knew to look for snakes, other wildlife, poison oak and ivy as if doing so was a gut reflex. I saw deer before their inevitable crash through the bush out of my peripherals, watched gator heads slink in and out of swamps along water logged routes, and once outran a water moccasin's bluff charge when I was 10 years old. A deep well of what feels like the best of southern redneck ancestry and the stoicism of my midwestern farmer roots guide my movements in the backcountry. When I'm out there, I feel that old time ancestral way of being coursing through my veins as if it's the most pure and natural thing on the planet; just to exist in the wilds and countryside. Maybe that's a small slice of the proverbial “why I go outside” pie that I engorge myself on; that every time I go for a trek in nature, I feel comforted by the best parts of my childhood.

*Hillbillies have weird lookin' dogs. Me and my cousin's rescued pet deer.*

However, I first mentioned to you that I'm a professional photographer. Perhaps you're wondering what exactly hiking, photography, and mental health will have to do with one another. All three are giants in my life; always there, requiring acknowledgment. This is my story of how my passion for photography came to be, how my singular passion became trauma and induced mental illness, and how I resolved to heal through reconnecting with nature. What happens though when you're out on the trail, and you find out that even nature can't “cure you”? I'll get to that too. Growing up in the rural south was, at its finest, an ecologically beautiful place. Socially, I often struggled to fit in growing up. I dealt with bullying from jocks and cheerleaders, teachers who regularly misunderstood me, and more often than not found spending time with our farm animals and 50 acres of woods to be my true sanctuary. When I was 16 we traded the swiftly deforesting piney woods for the bucolic farm country of Southern Illinois. Two years later in an art class, I picked up a camera for the first time and would never look back. Between the move to a friendlier community and my newfound love of photography, I began to finally see a future unfold.

*Me (2nd from left) and my goat Lucky at the county fair. Fun fact - 4H turned me into a vegetarian.*

But getting my hands on a camera was only the beginning. It started off easy enough. I shot a wedding, got paid. I shot another wedding, got paid again. My parents, as loving and as well meaning as they were, didn't believe photography was a legitimate career for an 18 year old girl. I was regularly reminded that I'd be better suited as a teacher or even a dental hygienist doing “my hobby” on the side. As a young person, I struggled under the weight of their lack of belief in me. I came near breaking points plenty of times. But I had to remember – the most important thing, is that I believe in myself. Somehow, that platitude I clutched tightly to my chest kept me going. Eventually I did indeed go to college for photography. I received my Bachelors in Cinema and Photography with a minor in Journalism in the spring of 2012. In 2010 during my first week of university classes, I quietly had my first anxiety attack in the bedroom of my first apartment. It would be far from my last.

*19 year old me taking medium format Holga photos. I wish I would have been kinder to that person.*

By 2014 I was working part time at a photo lab, and full time as a photographer. Right before Christmas, I was let go. It was a long time coming, but still, it was a lot at once. A few days later I got a call – Old Crow Medicine Show needed a BTS photographer. I took the job. I've been freelance ever since. In fact, my career took off pretty fast. I worked with Tom Petty, Kacey Musgraves, to name a few. I've sat at the feet of Willie Nelson during a private concert. I've had some of the best creative experiences of my life working with some of my favorite music artists and publications. If you know Americana music, then I've probably shot artists and album covers you like. The teenager who was told she might not make it, did indeed do so. I'm not here to brag however. The reason I tell you this, is that things weren't so great behind the scenes for me. In fact, things were awful more than not. I had to work all the time. I was underpaid, constantly manipulated and intimidated by labels and managers to work on terms that were often deeply unfair. I was constantly worried about money. More often than not, the idea of selling plasma or my egg cells sounded pretty damn sweet. But I kept going. I had to. This was the only thing I had going for me and I was great at it. I knew something would give. Eventually, things did give – but not the way I thought they would.

In March of 2016, I sat in my car weeping. I was parked in a pasture on Willie Nelson's ranch, and was shooting one of the famed music festivals that takes place there in Central Texas. You may be thinking, “How the hell can you be crying?! You have an all access pass and you're hanging out with cool creative people all day? You are also cool and creative? Also...Willie?!” Reality is ruthless though, and my suffering was mostly invisible. I had no money in my bank account, not really. I drove to Texas from Tennessee on a wing and a prayer that my low paying gigs during SXSW would pan out. I buried the mass of pain and exhaustion that bubbled under the surface. All it took, was for my Leica M2 (if you don't know, it's a very expensive camera) to break when I tripped and fell. Underpaid, undervalued, “paying my dues”, and no camera or health insurance. In that moment, every bit of anxiety and exhaustion that I held for the last eight years seemed to burst and morph into an old friend – another panic attack. This time however, something was different. I never recovered.

For the next year and a half, I gained weight, had constant inflammation and sinus issues, and in general really struggled to get by. I was getting harder and harder to perform shoots. Ironically, my career was still going strong for my age bracket and I was getting more and better work. That's how peculiar invisible disabilities such as depression can be. A lot of people didn't know how bad things were. I found some relief after a few beers. My muscles would relax and I felt like I could breathe through my nose again. But as we know, alcohol is an awful prescription for easing pain. Eventually I went to an allergy doctor. I swore I had just developed some kind of allergy. Maybe I could get things sorted out. The doctors eyes widened as he looked at my throat. “Oh yeah..your throat is very red and your sinuses are very congested!” he said. My test results came back – I had no allergies. My mysterious ailments continued, and the culmination of that plus depression and anxiety was the negative feedback loop from hell. By 2017, I was averaging only about 5-6 hours of awake time every day, then that went to 4-5. The rest of the day and night, I slept.

Eventually, I couldn't really work anymore, which as a freelancer is bad news. I was failing my clients, some were becoming furious. I'll never forget being told when I confided in a music manager why I was three days past my deadline, she said to me this: “Next time you get depressed, don’t take on photoshoots!”. Talk about reaffirming to someone not to talk about mental health. Some of my more religious family claimed that “I wasn't praying enough and that's why I was so sick.” By 2017, I was considering ending my life. I thought about it often. I had no resources to get better, I needed help. I had nowhere to turn. Ending it all felt like the only way to finally have peace. Every minute was hell on earth. I was in immense physical and emotional pain.

Within the course of a few months, a series of miracles happened. A loved one who shall remain nameless to protect their privacy saw I was suffering, and in secrecy, they helped me like no one had. Being in medicine, they procured me anti depressants; the first time I had ever taken them. Another friend helped me connect with a therapist. MusiCares, a charity that helps music industry members in need, paid for me to have three months of talk therapy. This is such a summary of how the foundation for healing laid out for me. This process took months, and some days were good, others were not. However, for the first time in a year and a half, I was starting to feel relief from what I would now know as psychosomatic symptoms of clinical depression, and the depression itself. As I healed and as medication allowed me to get my life back in order, I knew I had to RADICALLY change the way I see my photography, see my career, and most importantly – I needed to change how I love and value myself.

*AT Section Hike – Great Smoky Mountains – April 2022 – My fisheye camera broke when I got to Clingmans Dome, fun fact! At least I shot a roll through it before it bit the dust.*

Fast forward to 2023, six years later. I'm in the best shape of my life, I have a thru hike under my belt, and am planning my next one – The Appalachian Trail. I have a partner who is my soul mate. When life gets hard, it feels like I can manage it most days now. As much as I would LOVE to exclusively credit re-falling in love with being outside and hiking to my recovery, it was but one of a few important factors that helped me take back the reins of my life. What happened and how did I turn things around?

*Self Portrait in the Grand Canyon on my Panoramic Camera | Nov 2022*

Firstly, I started to take ME seriously! I looked at exercise like an obligation, not a “maybe if I have time”. I started saying no to things I didn't feel were right for me (noting theres a lot of privilege to be in that position). I quit overstuffing my schedule. I raised my rates as a photographer. I practiced (and still do) self acceptance. I sit outside and focus on my breathing. I point out things to myself that I like about my body and personality. I make time to help others and help the planet. I am mindful of who I let into my life. I am mindful of what I listen to, read, and watch. I set work hours. I take time off when possible to care for myself. Did my mental illness go away?

*Walker on the West Highland Way | Scotland UK | April 2023*

Unfortunately, no. I still on occasion deal with anxiety and depression, especially during busy seasons or if I'm dealing with career challenges. Even on hikes. My career of choice does not help, but with mindfulness and intentional time away from my work and the city, it is all now much more manageable. A few times a month, I go hiking or backpacking. I go to the gym every day. At the very least, I take a walk around my neighborhood. I have a somewhat hectic neighborhood and I would not call it peaceful, but I challenge myself to listen to bird song, to leaves rustling. To single out those nature sounds while I walk. In other words, I practice finding beauty. You can practice this even with the most difficult of people and places. This has proven to be a good practice for me. I've also found THC and CBD to be very helpful in moderation, although I entirely understand this isn't for everyone.

*Scottish Munros shot on my panoramic film camera | April 2023*

As I write this, I cannot tell you I've found the cure for mental illness no more than I can tell you I've found the cure for cancer. Somewhere at the crossroads of genetics and my environment, this is a cross I bear. That's it. No more, no less. Photography was my salvation, until it wasn't. Equally, I can't use hiking to cover up my problems. Art, music, nature, these are wonderful medicines. These medicines however, aren't foolproof ways to never deal with mental illness. Eventually, you'll need to turn inward for that. One thing I have learned in my life, is that the black dog of depression will stop at nothing to find you in certain seasons. You could be on a photoshoot, having lunch with a friend, or summiting a mountain. I've learned that if you use a hobby or passion to hide from mental health challenges, that on no uncertain terms – it will find you eventually. What does matter, is how you confront it when it approaches you. Find balance, find meaning, seek beauty. Be open, be gracious. Love. Exercise. Get outside. Listen to your mind and body when you feel those awful and familiar feelings. Put that proverbial black dog in its place. Train it to your advantage. Maybe, just maybe, your challenges can be your superpowers. Depression and anxiety suck, but I truly believe they can be conquered over time.

*My Zpacks backpack and Loch Ness | April 2023*

These days on my hikes, I've been taking a camera with me. I've learned in my 34 years of life thus far, that the concept of not quitting on a rainy day applies to all aspects of life, not just thru hiking or long distance backpacking. Being a professional photographer IS HARD. But on my very best days, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Find your true north, and while you shouldn't give up when things get hard – make sure you work to handle your challenges in a way that protects your mental health. Hike the good hike out there! You are worth fighting for. Take care of yourselves.

A Snapshot of an Imperfect Life: What my life passions have taught me about mental health

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