Life really does feel way too fast right now. Here’s why.

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Wish you could just hit the pause button on life for a minute to catch your breath? There's a name for that. 

On a recent overseas trip, my five-year-old's fear of flying got the better of her. 

After trying to run back up the footbridge past security, using every last bargaining chip in her tiny arsenal ("I'll have a consequence — any consequence!") and finally, being carried onto the plane kicking and screaming in every parent (and fellow passenger's) worst nightmare, she sat clinging to me in her seat, begging to speak to the pilot so she could make sure the plane didn't take off until she was ready. 

"Please not yet," she repeated, over and over again, cracking my heart into a million pieces. "Please, I'm not ready, please don't let them take off yet."

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The relentless overwhelm of forward motion 

Lately, I've been resonating a lot with her pre-takeoff feelings. But it has nothing to do with flying. 

These past few months, I've been feeling a kind of cognitive whiplash at the pace at which the world seems to be hurtling towards a future I don't recognise. 

Two years ago, Chat GPT was little more than a gimmick in most people's minds. Now, it's integrated into almost everyone's work, social and personal life in a deeply embedded way.

We see articles about 'AI-induced psychosis' and the rise of people swapping out human therapists for AI versions — something that researchers recently proved could have catastrophic results, when they discovered Chat GPT could be manipulated into giving detailed instructions about self-harm.  

We hear statistics like this one: that 80 per cent of the jobs our kids will have in the future are yet to be invented yet. Or this, from an estimate by Goldman Sachs, which predicts AI will replace the equivalent of 300 million jobs globally. 

We now know, almost 20 years down the track, how swiftly and totally the introduction of social media changed not only the fabric of society, but our very brains — and those of our kids. 

A runaway train

And yet in spite of the lessons we're gradually learning about our fealty to the algorithm, it feels as though the mass-adoption of AI, with very few checks and balances, is another runaway train. One we're all leaping aboard with reckless abandon. 

I'm stuck in this strange in-between, where one half of my brain marvels at the potential humanity now has to cure disease, fight climate change and successfully use up all remaining vegetables in the fridge in a truly excellent AI-generated frittata recipe.

The other half? It's overcome with the feeling that if everything could just SLOW DOWN for a hot minute, the rising panic in my chest would subside. 

As it turns out, there's a name for it: future shock. 

Coined by American writer and futurist Alvin Toffler in his classic 1970 book Future Shock, the term describes the feeling of being overwhelmed by too much change in too short a time. 

It's a concept that feels more relevant than ever. He described this "dizzying disorientation" as the psychological state of a person caught in the relentless pace of technological advancement and social shifts.

I know I'm not the only one feeling this. 

Can we all just agree to slow down the train?

Last week, three separate people told me they wished there was a 'pause button' for life. 

"I feel like if it all just stopped for like — I don't know — maybe a month? Then I could get on top of things and feel like I had a bit of a plan in place," dreamed one friend. 

A fellow parent at a kid's birthday party told me his brain felt like it was running on an 'old operating system' that needed to be upgraded to hold all the things it was expected to hold. 

My husband said it while staring at the mounting piles of laundry on our couch. 

Julie Sweet, clinical psychotherapist and counsellor at Seaway Counselling and Psychotherapy, says future shock is increasing in her clients. 

"I've witnessed a steady increase over the past two or three years, with a more significant escalation in recent times, especially over the last six to 12 months," she told Mamamia.

"Some attribute it to the rise of AI and technology, while others cite changes in family dynamics and the influx of data and information. As a result, individuals can experience information overload and struggle to stay present in the here and now."

In other words, in spite of all the modern conveniences that are supposed to have made our lives less busy, our brains are on a constant spinning rat's wheel, and there's the distinct impression that if we fall off for even a moment, there's no getting back on. 

So when does future shock tip over into a problem that needs professional help? Sweet says the signs can vary. 

"Rumination, obsessive thoughts and experiencing a negative feedback loop can lead to deterioration in physical, mental, and emotional well-being," she explains. 

"Changes in sleep hygiene, increased activation and nervousness, hyperarousal, avoidance behaviours and oversharing as well. Being in a perpetual state of fight, flight, freeze or fawn, generalised anxiety, fatigue, and chronic apathy can all be signs that we're flailing psychologically."

Sweet advises seeking professional support, as well as focusing on things like mindfulness, tech boundaries (like limiting interactions with social media, AI and even news to smaller windows of the day) and engaging with new ideas in a gentle way as tools to cope. 

"It can also be beneficial to identify triggers or dysregulation and implement support to prevent vulnerability in similar situations," she adds.

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As for my daughter, I'm pleased to report that thankfully for us (and everyone else on the plane), as soon as we took off, her panic evaporated entirely. 

She was cracking jokes with the flight attendants and exclaiming at the beauty of the clouds within 30 seconds. 

"I love this!" she was soon declaring, happily digging into her lunchbox filled with lollies we panic-purchased at the airport. "There was nothing to be afraid of after all!"

I suppose those of us who feel smothered by the overwhelm of what the future holds might do well to follow her example and settle in — preferably with snacks — to enjoy the ride. 

Feature Image: Getty