There was a time I remember, as a child, where there wasn’t a freight train pushing me from behind. It was usually when I was dancing or hand-standing, flipping around the lawn under the warmth of the sun. You know those times where the mind is free from thought and you’re completely and utterly ‘in the moment’? There was a photo of my sister and me sitting up in bed, reading. I’d already managed to mirror that intense look my mother wore (eyebrows gathered together, focused, and insisting on knowing whatever it was that lay on the pages of the book).
Mum always said I was cursed with a madly busy mind inside my little head. “That brain of yours never stops,” she’d sigh.
It became a problem in my teens. So much attention on the future and trying to control what lay ahead. Hello, anxiety! This imbalanced neuro-hormonal swing often goes hand in hand with depression, and sure enough, those times where everything felt like too much were rough and tough.