"It feels like someone is taking this spot, in the middle of my chest, and wringing it."
Conversation with a 16-year-old.
Mental health is not in your head, it's in your body. It's in the tips of your fingers when you can't feel them; it's in the blindspot on the side of your eyesight; it's in the fog you're walking through everyday; it's in the edge you're walking on, holding in your every emotion while they're yearning to break free, yearning to split your body in two, chest downwards. It's the voice in the back of your head that's trying to tell you you're being an idiot, it's the drowning out of this voice by the other voice that's simply screaming in panic, unable to work out that the world isn't about to swallow you whole. Anxiety bloody sucks, and that's the most real thing about mental health.