“Ordinary life became too much for me.”

We live in a world of constant connectivity. Every day we move through a dense network of information, images, messages and relationships. Never before have we been so connected to the world. Never before has it been so easy to lose ourselves.This project does not depict technology or screens. It reveals the traces they leave on the human being.I am interested in the moment when information overload, the pressure of constant availability, digital violence, the culture of comparison and the gradual erosion of meaningful relationships begin to reshape the way we perceive ourselves and others. This process is often invisible. It unfolds quietly, leading to withdrawal, loneliness, the loss of agency, anxiety and depression.

The photographs do not document specific events or attempt to illustrate clinical diagnoses. Instead, they seek to capture what usually remains unseen: tension, vulnerability, inner chaos, silence and the loneliness concealed beneath the surface of everyday life. The body becomes a site where the experiences of contemporary existence are inscribed.Interwoven throughout the project are anonymous voices of people who have experienced mental health crises.

“I will never be like those girls on the screen.”

“When I was in middle school, I was pushed, spat on and called names. My classmates recorded videos of me and uploaded them online. I lost all motivation to keep going.”

“I’m sociable, creative and cheerful. No one would ever suspect that I suffer from depression.”

These voices are neither captions nor explanations of the photographs. They are testimonies of lived experience, giving the images a human dimension and reminding us that behind every statistic, diagnosis and social phenomenon there is always a real person. Each photograph creates a tension between what is visible and what remains hidden. The Lost of the title are not disconnected from the network. They are disconnected from themselves.The project does not seek simple causes or easy answers. Instead, it invites the viewer to pause and reflect on the condition of contemporary humanity.

What happens to us when the number of connections grows faster than our capacity to truly experience them?Does a world that constantly urges us to be visible still leave room for genuine presence?