LIVING WITH THE PURPLE ROSE

Excitement was palpable in my eyes when I was told that I would be allowed to pick the paint color of my bedroom walls; as a child with very little jurisdiction over all other aspects of my life, this opportunity was a rite of passage that evoked restless anticipation and eagerness— the specific childhood eagerness that is usually only summoned on birthdays and holidays. While there was much to consider, such as choosing a color to match the furniture in my room and ensuring the visual appeal of my selection, my overarching goal was establishing an atmosphere that matched how I wanted to feel in my room: inquisitive, warmhearted, enthusiastic, like a young princess bouncing around her palace.

I remember browsing through the options, hoping to discover a color that paralleled my childhood curiosity and ambition. My eyes jumped from shades of intense pinks to bright purples, until I found them fixated on a light lilac shade labeled Purple Rose. I closed my eyes, imagining my bedroom with Purple Rose walls. I saw more than just the color, though—my room awash with this beautiful shade of purple, I saw myself as the princess I longed to be. Draped in a shiny violet dress that resembled those of Disney princesses, I approached the world with captivating bright eyes and a beaming smile. My insatiable appetite for knowledge, new experiences, and wisdom led me down winding paths rich with opportunities, waiting patiently for my arrival. Strong and kind, I was ready to take on the world and its challenges. The Purple Rose paint evoked these majestic feelings that I longed for, perfectly encompassing my vision of the future.

Almost ten years later, I still woke up to Purple Rose walls in the mornings. But mere months after the onset of life in a pandemic and my first encounter with real, agonizing grief, I began to resent the color on my walls. It no longer symbolized my reign as princess; instead, all I could see was my depression, anxiety, and grief in its physical manifestation. The Purple Rose that I once loved morphed into the despair from being unable to will myself to leave my bed, the anguish from debilitating academic stress, and the heavy burden of grief tainting every thought that crossed my mind. My bright eyes dimmed, my beaming smile dragged down into a permanent frown, and my beautiful princess dress turned into a pair of pajamas worn a few days too long. The winding paths that used to entice me turned out to be an illusion that all led to the same miserable, lonely outcome that is death. I felt physically and mentally weak, unable to take on basic self-care, let alone the world and its challenges. Piles of clutter started dominating my floorspace, only contributing

WRITER

CATHERINE AUGUST GRAPHIC DESIGNER RINO FUJIMOTO

to the feelings of hopelessness floating around in my headspace. I was drowning in the very environment that was supposed to provide comfort.

Recognizing that I was at my breaking point, my mother made the welcome suggestion that we remodel my room, starting with repainting. I found myself eagerly browsing through shades just as I did when I was a kid; this time, however, I noticed my eyes gravitating only towards shades of soft green. My gaze landed on a shade labeled Paradise Green and my eyes instinctively closed to let my mind paint the picture, a scene more serene than I had with the Purple Rose as a child. A wide river flows through a forest permeated with lush greenery. I step into the shallow river and let the green-tinted water run against my legs. The harsh cold jolts me out of my anxious thoughts, and the thousands of green leaves swaying in the gentle breeze usher my brain out of its dark state and back into reality. I realize that Paradise Green brings me back to the present by washing away the pain that has been holding me back, rather than teleporting me into an alternate existence like the Purple Rose did, but it seems to be just what I need. This sense of tranquility and composure is something I have not felt in a long time, and I know Paradise Green will become my mental paradise.

The physical process of painting my room reinforced these feelings of peacefulness. With each brushstroke, I painted over the pain that had been smothering me in my old environment. I acknowledged every inch of Purple Rose paint on my wall, staring my anxiety, depression, and grief in the face and accepting them for what they are. But with each brushstroke, I also solidified my intention to focus on healthy behaviors that would facilitate personal growth and improve my well-being. The painting process illuminated the idea that it is possible to live with the Purple Rose without allowing it to suffocate me; the Purple Rose will always be on my walls behind the coat of Paradise Green, but I have taken away its jurisdiction to control me.

By refusing my pain the opportunity to exist in my physical environment, I have adapted more into the at-ease person I want to be. Although I still struggle at times even after altering my space to be more conducive to my well-being, with the added aid of other treatment efforts, I feel more at home in my environment. With each passing day, I grow more conscious that one’s environment is reflecti of and connected to their state of mind. Undergoing change and adaptations can be difficult, but necessary to learn to live with, not under, the Purple Rose.