There's a saturation to every emotion I feel. I don't think I feel more than other people, but what I feel I feel so intensely.
When I'm sad, I'm so sad I can't do anything. I simply wander, listless, around the house, around the building that I'm in. Listless and aimless, and who knows where I'm headed. I sit down and just want to curl up in a ball and cry. I can't focus on things. I just want to be gone from whatever is making me sad.
And when I'm mad, I'm so mad I want to scream. I stomp around, lash out at everyone, slam things. Grumble and curse things with every inoffensive insult I can conjure up. I scowl so the milk turns when I even look at it. I attack things with a ferocity, mess them up, and gloom away, into another room to ruin something else in my insatiable irk.
Then when I'm happy, I'm so happy I want to sing (and most of the time, I take that liberty). I crow about what a lovely day it is, I dance through the house and then laugh because I can't dance, and I float everywhere I go. I beam, and radiate joy onto others, who look at me quizzically. All I can say is that it's a good day, and they respond mildly that they can tell.
Apathy, however, is still present. And apathy is the hardest of all, because when I can't bring myself to care I can't bring myself to do much of anything, and I just want to sit and alternatively cry, sigh, or sleep. There's no color there, none at all.
Black and white. On days like today I feel like every emotion is solid black and white
They're not, though. Not most days. But today I feel like it's black and white. There are no shades of grey.