Tracy Marshall describes how the worrying natter of her internal world, thankfully, fell silent
I was delighted to read Polly Hudson’s article on overthinkers like me (Faithful, sensitive, forgiving: overthinkers like me make the best partners, 29 March). I am 51 now and have spent most of my life at the mercy of my ability to “turn even the most pleasant, benign interaction into a horrifying encounter that definitely caused offence”.
Someone once described me as a sentinel – forever observing and analysing myself and, as a result, never actually living in the moment and enjoying the freedom from guilt and shame and self-loathing that the under- and perfect-level thinkers around me appeared to achieved without effort.
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