learning the mid-tones: the high-spirit, low-spirit spectrum. swept in the whoosh of color and painting myself to match. creating a language for expressing feelings. over the years i developed this distrust for the color yellow, because of the false promise of feeling momentarily better and bright. i would always find depression grinning again. writing poems in dimly lit streets during the danger of night and sleeping till noon buoyed in sheets of sweat. prone to isolation and burning my tongue on black tea. i would wonder in words and sink into the sour color. looking back through my pigtailed and polka dotted youth aware of a golden sting. i am capable of feeling happy. the printed and catalogued proof sitting in a cupboard at home and grinning on the office wall. but as i live in los angeles now, one thousand five hundred and seventy specks of silence. the length of my pointer finger across a google map computer. that distance from memory no longer elastic. i stare at the sun and the yellow flourish and how the liquid blues and flesh silhouettes all combine for once. the separation and divide of feeling happy and sad are momentarily frozen. i am present. i am alive. and i am not my mental illness.
yesterday, october 10 was world mental illness day and i found my smile creating content that could potentially help others on a journey towards acceptance and recovery. yellow is sitting in all of us. the true tone, warm and ready for an embrace. i said goodbye to the misinformed yellow that faded my happy moments dulling them and stripping the sunshine of its sincerity. i am not ashamed of the waves in my life. because i am now capable of navigating these waters. and i have become quite the swimmer.