I am autistic, bi-polar, and schizophrenic.

I think your question is really interesting because I tend to associate the human eyes with extreme emotions whether it's in my vivid imagination or if the person is right in front of me. Or myself. Sometimes, when I have conversations with people, I tend to focus on being intent with my listening because my mind wanders. When I feel like crying, I try to avoid looking at anything resembling eyes because I know I'll let it go when I do. People know when I'm serious because I look it with a real intensity. Or sometimes, people just apologize to me for every little interaction and it hurts because I'm just trying to look out for others. I don't always look so friendly and approachable.

I'll look in the mirror five minutes from now and love that my eyes sparkle, then right before bed see nothing inside. A forceful interaction with the only person who knows what's going on inside and out. I sometimes subconsciously began looking at myself at a different angle through a cabinet mirror because I'm never going to look at myself today, maybe tomorrow too, and most definitely not sure about next week. Selfies are a painful digital mirror; there's no glamor; it's tough to smile for the camera because it feels fake; I don't want the world to see my happiness unless I choose to; my happiness is my love for everyone and everything I care about. So why am I faking a smile and directing my eyes into someone that I'm never really looking at? The physical glass mirror is still fake, but it's only one degree of fake; it's still material. The camera is just as fake, too, but it has purpose; it's a natural progression of how we maintain our memories. And we've added them to our tool box. Still don't like looking into my eyes or having my picture taken.

Even though I spent time describing quite a few contrasts, my imagination does not give a fuck if my emotions are processed and categorized. Looking at myself in the mirror could be full of delusion that I'm looking good today even though I let my beard go crooked and uneven. I can smile at everyone during any given day and mean it, or never mean it.

My imagination forces so much more negativity, at times, than I wish for. It's so ugly. That's what really makes me cry.

I see a lot of this when I look in other people's eyes because that's what I find beautiful deep down in my heart. It's just life.

This was a good question!

my eyes are red