My mind is... pacing...

At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, it feels like my consciousness has pulled into a tight little ball (with.. legs?) that's running around inside my head, dashing from wall to wall, retreating into the corner and throwing glances around the room.

The room, while I'm describing it, is white and cube-shaped, with light coming from no obvious source. No windows or doors or anything, no shadows, just white.

like the face inside is right beneath your skin