When I saw this title "one colour" I immediately thought of grey. The grey of depression. For the lucky ones of us, who don't know what the eff I'm talking about, I'll elaborate.
A few years ago, when I fell down really deep into that awful pit that's depression, I didn't feel bad. I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel at all. There was a bit of fear, because the absolute absence of feeling is kinda scary. The scariness of it all made me get out. It all didn't seem like a part of myself, but a foreign part from outside that made me be this way. Like something invaded me and tried to kill me from within. Because the only way to escape it all seemed to be death. It's the wrong conclusion and I'm glad I had the sense not to do it. (But then again I battled with suicidal thoughts for about 10 years by then, so maybe I've been experienced.)
The depression not only made me feel almost nothing, it also let me taste and see almost nothing. All meals tasted like wet paper. Not in an icky way, just indifferent.
I also couldn't see. My vision changed. All the colours disappeared. Everything had a thick grey fog over it. Like really thick dust and this everywhere I looked. There was no real sunlight any more, it was all a very dark November. Even though I fell into that pit during the summer. All the things didn't have their original colour, instead they were all grey. And I don't mean like in a black and white photograph, because that's different. In a photograph everything has its own shade of grey and this looks quite pretty, I think. But during the depression everything had pretty much the same shade of grey. It made the suicidal thoughts even more sensible. "If the world looks this bad, then let's just get out of it."
Grey can be a pretty colour, if it's surrounded by more lively colours. But on its own, it's just so awful.
I never want to experience "one colour" ever again!
This post is part of Corner View, hosted by Francesca.