World Mental Health Day: Body of Work

On World Mental Health Day, we’re often encouraged to talk about mental health, but for many, it can be hard to know where to begin. For me, conversations start with challenging very simple myths about how difficult mental illness can be to live with, being clear that something “all in your head” can be as debilitating as something all in your stomach, and knowing that medication which can transform lives is not “just a crutch”.

As a board member of the Highland charity Centred, I’ve heard countless stories that have reinforced for me just how damaging these ideas can be, and I’ve taken all the opportunities I can in my role as an MSP to speak up on everything from crisis services to suicide bereavement – meeting with local organisations and the NHS, discussing future policy with government ministers, and leading debates on making workplaces more accessible.  Even before my election to the Scottish Parliament, I campaigned for a new option to be added to NHS24’s phone menu, allowing mental health callers to be dealt with appropriately and asked relevant questions – something that is now used daily by callers across Scotland.

This year, I was honoured to collaborate with Centred service users and local artists to create a piece of art that could challenge these myths head-on. When a colleague at Centred first asked me to take part, I was excited – though I and my team agreed that, sadly, I probably didn’t have time. But I was so excited to be gifted with a different way of approaching speaking out about mental health, that might reach different people to my parliamentary questions – so, for a couple of evenings last week, I made the time – and a binbag-covered creative space at the door to my flat (apologies to the Merkinch posties for the inconvenience).

I’m so glad that I did, and the result is “Body of Work,” my mannequin which is currently on display with five others in the project at Eden Court, as part of the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival.

He’s a simple mannequin, whom I admit wilts a bit in the presence of his companions who were created by proper artists who knew what they were doing – and probably have learned how to keep their cats away while they paint – but every part of him tells a story. I painted him in a deep blue, a colour that for me represents the hidden, quiet depression that can envelope and conceal a person. Then, in shimmering gold letters, I painted the physical symptoms of anxiety and depression across his body: chest pain, nausea, exhaustion, muscle aches, migraine, and many more. I wanted to make it impossible to look at his body and still believe that mental illness is “all in your head.” These are real, tangible symptoms that can be debilitating and terrifying. They are proof that our minds and bodies are deeply connected, and what affects one, affects the other.

Body of Work also holds a crutch in his left hand. It’s not just any crutch; it’s covered in the empty packaging of some medications used to treat mental illness. This part of the artwork is a direct response to one of the most damaging phrases I’ve heard: “medication is just a crutch.” This dismissive idea suggests that taking medication for mental health is a sign of weakness or a shortcut. But what if a crutch isn’t a sign of weakness at all?

For many with mobility issues, whether permanent or temporary, a crutch is a vital tool that allows them to move, to heal, and to live their life more fully and independently. It supports them when they are most vulnerable. Mental health medication is no different. For countless people, it is a life-changing tool that provides the support they need to get out of bed, shower, function at work, and reconnect with the world. It’s not a sign of failure; it’s a sign of strength and a commitment to getting better and using all the tools you have access to.

“Body of Work” will soon tour the Highlands with his fellow mannequins, and I hope he sparks conversations in every community he visits. My hope is that it helps people to see mental illness for what it is: a serious health condition that deserves our compassion, our understanding, and our respect. We have a responsibility to challenge the myths that stop people from seeking the help they need.