illustrated by Marta Parszeniew; photos by Emily Bowler

Everyone who has experienced one can remember their first panic attack. Mine came in my third year, while on a year abroad at UCLA, when I stopped on the side of the road on the walk home from another long shift at the coffee shop I worked in, partially hid myself in some bushes (no idea why) and hyperventilated and sobbed while passers-by awkwardly skirted around me. After calming down somewhat and walking home, I climbed into bed fully clothed and didn’t leave for 24 hours.  ​

The Colour Of Madness is a seminal BAME led & curated anthology, comprised of poetry, fiction, essays, memoirs, and art submitted by BAME writers, academics, mental health workers, artists and those still navigating life with mental health problems in the UK.

In a world where asserting that your life does in fact ‘matter’ is a radical act, it can feel impossibly naive to dream of equality, of a black life lived in dignity. Patrisse Khan Cullors, co-founder of the Black Lives Matter movement, dares to dream of that radical future.

When They Call You A Terrorist by Xenia Latii
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It strikes me that to be labelled a terrorist by the US Government – along with the likes of Angela Davis, Assata Shakur, the entire Black Panther Party and countless other black rights activists – is nothing short of an honour. They called Martin Luther King Jr. a terrorist too, but the white American cultural memory is short.

Conversations about mental health are never pleasant. Some are easier than others. Sometimes I can calmly bare my soul to a room full of people about my struggles with anxiety and depression. Other times, I stumble over the word "citalopram" and pretend that my antidepressants are vitamins, for fear of being treated like a "cr*zy person".

When I started university, as a Black English literature student, I found my programme heavily weighted towards literature written by straight, white, upper-class men. I rarely found myself reflected in the texts I studied or the people who taught me.

Witch side are you on? by Terri Po
In a world of Sexy Scientist costumes and whitewashed Geisha get-ups, the witch has prevailed as a feminist fallback for socially conscious trick-or-treaters. And, er, we’re about to ruin that for you too...

A book tunnel at The Last Bookstore, LA. Photograph: James F Martinez

For a visiting student without a car, Los Angeles is a difficult city to make home. It’s vast, sprawling over almost 5,000 square miles, with an infamously poor public transport system. The Last Bookstore is tricky to reach – an hour’s journey from my apartment, but well worth the pilgrimage. While I treat all bookstores as sacred spaces, this spot in downtown LA is uniquely beautiful.

Los Angeles after dark from Mulholland Drive by Gilad Rom

​My first taster of the difficulties of travelling alone as a girl came on the greyhound from LA to San Francisco; no matter how aggressively you pretend to text or sleep, or how long it has been since you showered, you will always be the top candidate to sit next to. My first overnight bus was spent next to a woman who attempted to embrace me every time I fell asleep. I could not go on like this.