Some people may not like my choice of color, but if you want to get technical, black contains all of the colors of the rainbow, added together. So really...I enjoy every color - as long as they combine to make black.
So, why in the hell am I talking about my favorite color? This is the kind of question you discuss in early elementary school.
I'm discussing the color black because it is often the color that I (and most people) associate with depression. When someone is "down," they prefer dark rooms, dark clothes, dark clouds, and generally have bleak and dark thoughts.
Through my bipolar, I have discovered that I can begin the day brightly. As I become productive and feel okay about myself, I can feel my colors working their way toward green or yellow. Perhaps, I decide to do something to feed my soul, such as yoga, drawing, or reading. As my day draws to it's close, I may be close to purple/white...
Unfortunately, what has been happening lately is that I begin my day colorfully. However, I can never forget the fact that I also have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. With both of these mood disorders, it is nearly impossible to maintain a stability of color.
Where I am in my recovery, newly dealing with my bipolar and throwing in the GAD. There are far and few in between times that I feel terrific: like I am worthwhile. I feel like I can handle identifying with white. However, there are times, often in the same day (or maybe several times in the same day) that I feel I deserve no more than the color black.
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