Color symbolism


I used to have strong beliefs in color symbolism. I only wore red, black and white. The colors together symbolize honor in Japanese culture, that was part of it, but I believed myself to have three moods, and only three moods. Survival, pain and rage, respectively white, black and red. I still wear these colors almost every single say, just to remind myself of what I have been through.

I am fully recovered and very highly functioning, functioning more highly than the majority of normal people. However, this is recovery due to medications, if I were to skip my meds for a day, I would end up screaming at myself in the shower and break inanimate objects and drink all of the alcohol in sight. That was a normal night for me before I began my recovery, which was a slow process.

But anyway, survival, white, was my academia- I was and still am on a full scholarship to college, and I made mostly A’s and a few B’s whilst psychotic and unmedicated, drinking loads of caffeine in the day and even bigger quantities of alcohol every night. I had a cumulative 3.5 the day I began taking meds and began recovering, slowly.

Pain was the color black. I spend most of my free time alone, drunk, and sore from excessive exercise, chain smoking marlboro reds with a bottle of fireball whiskey in my other hand. I didn’t sleep much, I sat in my backyard smoking and drinking in the AM.

Red was rage. When I woke up, I was paranoid, delusional, hallucinating and above all, angry, in fact absolutely irate. I thought everyone was against me except for my one friend, my drinking buddy. I remember sweating and gripping my desk in class, keeping myself from screaming and bashing my head against the desk, which i always wanted to do. I would lift weights, not powerlifting but bodybuilding so that I could feel a burn and workout longer, (now i am a competitive powerlifter, whole different game), i would bare-knuckle box on my punching bags, (I have a few belts in Krav Maga) and I would sometimes run as well. I took everything to an extreme, I got looks from people at the gym because they noticed that I was lifting too heavy for someone my size and that I was working out for at least an hour and a half without stopping to talk to anyone at all, I just kept my earbuds in and blasted Slipknot louder than my voices.

Red and white was what I wore in the summer after my first year of college and my first year and a half with schizophrenia. I had survived, and I was free to exercise all day for a few months before the fall semester. I began medication at this time, but it didn’t really work until November, when I began a high dose of Geodon and also a relatively low dose of xanax and a high dose of propanolol.

Black and white meant survival and pain- bascially, to me it meant do or die. Today my knee wraps for squats and black with a white stripe, my training shoes are black and white, my lifting belt is black, elbow support sleeves are black and my wrist wraps are red.

I am recovered and do not have a delusional attachment to the colors, but they will always be a part of me, we humans are accumulations of our experiences, and I have been insane and learned a lot about myself from it.

Yes, I just posted in the delusions section. I am not psychotic anymore, I just wanted to share what I think was the most interesting and (to me) most beautiful aspect of my experience with being raving mad.


You remind me of the tasmanian devil from the warner brothers cartoons.


Black white are red make me think safety… it’s the lifeguard uniform here.

For me personally… I used to wear only gray, soft gray blue and very faded blue.
I used to think If i could blend into the fog, a kidnapper couldn’t find us. The sad thing is… cars can’t see you well either and a few times I’ve almost been hit in the fog.

I used to try and dress my sis in those colors too for the same reason… hide in the fog from kidnappers. I used to make her wear this little gray beret hat and I would try to tuck all her red hair in it. I just knew her red hair would give away our hiding place. She sort of retaliated by wearing lots of green and blue.


I would always wear the color green when I was sick. Shades of green would make me feel calm and protected. I painted my room green so I could feel better. Blue was also a safe color to me. It would send me in a peaceful trance when staring at the color too long.

I always thought that evil people wore black and red. Black hid too many things behind it and red was the color of anger. I would feel nervous around those colors all the time. Ironically I started wearing a lot of black myself to hide from people. I would either wear something green underneath or draw a colored seal to keep myself under control.

It’s interesting what colors can mean to a person.


I saw someone wearing black, white + red the other day + thought about you. Btw today I saw a little girl wearing a purple tutu and a blue shirt with tweety bird on it. I liked her colors.


Csummersx you crack me up lol!


Always glad to be of service!
Laughter is good medicine.:smile:


My colors are blue, grey, green and tan. The color of camouflage. Remnants of hippydom that I still hide in.


my favorite color is pink, i see it in the clouds and sunsets and it makes my heart soar.
take care