I'm crying tears of colours
Which says a lot for the healing power of tears.
I've spent a few hours today painting Water Crystals, staring deeply into the rainbows I've painted in the water. Now when I close my eyes I see rainbow. I don't mean I see the coloured arc you see in a sun shower, I see a senseless swirl of exhilaratingly contrasting colours.
When I cry the colours explode.
I'm crying over being rejected by a bloke, so I'm calling these tears healthy tears. When I was in my twenties I would cut myself when I was feeling stressed and trapped. Thankfully, I've left that compulsion behind. The urge has been rewired and art's my thing, now. Singing and playing the piano is very cathartic. Painting and drawing is great for dissociation: I can get the fuck out of where I am by making colours; and that suits me. Creative writing and journaling are very good, also.
I'm proud not to drink (much) or smoke; lots of people who are very sensitive mess themselves up with substances. I live with cruel poverty and all that entails. If you know you know.