Redheaded Jill

I can honestly say that as I’ve aged I have mellowed. My family might laugh at that, but it’s true. It’s not because I care about things less, just that I have grown tired. If I were to watch the news or get back into politics (as an interest, not as a participant) I would get easily fired up again. However, I avoid things that I can’t control that will spike my cortisol.

That being said, once or twice a year I have a mini spiral. Maybe it’s an argument with my sister, maybe it’s a misinterpreted comment from a friend, maybe it’s an interaction with a complete stranger.

The stages are: overthinking, panicking, planning an apology, deciding against an apology because I’m allowed to have my opinions, overthinking some more, questioning everything I’ve said in the last few weeks to lead to the spiral inducing conversation or interaction, preparing for the worst, deciding I don’t need friends or people in my life and accepting the impending doom of a hermit-esque existence. (I know I’m getting better though, because I’ve added prayer into the equation. I usually pray, go to sleep, and in the morning things look better.)

Even though I have healthy relationships with my family, even though I have strong friendships, even though I have a safety net that I trust I still find myself facing insecurities.

I’ve never actually HAD to become a hermit. Usually I find out the conversation was way less dramatic to the other person than it was to me, and my fears are not confirmed in any way shape or form. But the me, the college me, the inner child me, the me who actually did experience abandonment from her friends, she peeks out and says, “You survived it before, you’ll survive it again.” And we hunker down and prepare for solitude.