As a child I would worry that my heart was beating or wasn’t beating fast enough. At the age of about 7 or 8 I would lay in bed and feel for my pulse, if it was slow I’ve run around the bedroom to speed it up. Little did I realise this would become an obsession during my most anxious days later on in life.
My mum was a teacher. She often worked late and had many evenings where she would be at functions - I’d lay away till almost 10pm as a young child waiting for her to get home safe. The minutes seemed like hours. I’d even pray for her safe return. Every single time. And I’m not / was not even religious but I was always scared she wouldn’t come back.
Thinking back anxiety riddled me as a child. I remember my reception days when I would cry and cry after being dropped off by my Dad. I had to be distracted whilst he left. When I was in primary school if I stayed at a friends I would never make the night - to my parents absolute delight. I would be bought home a sobbing mess.
One occasion the sweets I was bought for a sleep over “reminded me of my mum” and that was it, I was off. Later on in life this came back to haunt me when the “so called friend” decided she would tell everyone this. Joy.
Being bullied over something you cannot control is pretty shit.