How to Have a Bad Day Step 22: Spiral

You get corrected at work… and by 2 PM you're already scrolling through SaskJobs cause you just know you're gonna get fired.

You have a fight with your husband … and suddenly you're mentally pricing out life as a single mom of three, working two jobs, and eating ramen noodles forever.

You have a headache, a lump, or a pain that lingers. Instead of calmly checking it out, you’re already imagining worst-case diagnoses, hospital beds, and funerals that haven’t been planned.

When something shakes us, our brains often skip steps. Instead of dealing with the one, small frustration in front of us, we leap ahead into a storm that hasn’t even formed yet. A bad day morphs into a bad week, and then you are convinced you have a bad life. Before we know it, we’re carrying burdens that don’t even exist and don't see any way forward but panic.

Worrying about the future was addressed in Step 2, but I believe this deserves a whole day on it's own because spiraling is worry's ugly twin. One thing I always have to remind myself is that just because I’ve had a bad day doesn’t mean I have a bad life.

Spiraling Isn't so Much about the Future as it is the Past

Psychology Today Calls this Catastrophizing:

"Catastrophizing is the tendency to magnify challenges or negative events, envisioning the worst possible outcome with little evidence to support it. While it often feels automatic, it is not without cause. This pattern of anticipating worst-case scenarios often has roots in early life experiences, when the seeds of self-perception and emotional regulation are first planted."

Hormones, chronic pain, and stressful circumstances (like illness, grief, job loss, divorce), can absolutely make small inconveniences feel overwhelming and cause us to spiral. But often, what we’re experiencing is not necessarily worry about the future, but actually emotional triggering. Somewhere along the way—often formed in childhood—our brains learned to protect us. So when something happens, or someone says something in just the wrong tone, we’re not reacting to the moment in front of us. We’re back in the moment we were hurt, abandoned, yelled at, dehumanized, or abused.

The person who accidentally ripped off that old scab has no idea how deep the wound goes. They’re not intending to cause harm. And the pain feels disproportionate because we’re not just dealing with this moment—we’re dealing with that moment too and it also can cause a disproportionate emotional response. (Hence feeling like you're going crazy)

What Triggers the Spiraling

I once heard an analogy that stuck with me. If you see me and give me a friendly tap on the arm, I’ll receive it for what it is: a warm gesture of “hey, good to see you.” But if my arm is covered in a second-degree sunburn, that same tap will feel like fire and my response very well could be a punch in your face! That’s what a trigger is like. No one can see it but you. Sometimes even you don’t realize it’s there—until it gets touched, and all you know is: it hurts.

I’ve been working through one of my own. I’ve realized these past couple of years that deep down, I carry this belief that if I’m not always doing something—going the extra mile, holding everything together, making sure everyone is happy—then I’m failing. So when criticism comes, even gentle or constructive, it sets off an internal spiral reaction.

A simple comment like my husband saying, “Why is there milk on the floor?” feels like a stab to the heart. Never mind that I just made dinner, wrangled the kids, folded laundry, and loaded the dishwasher. My brain translates his observation into: “You’re not enough. You’ve failed again. Why aren't you better?”

Logically, I know the truth. But logic dims when we're triggered. I know he's not accusing me of spilling the milk or even implying that I should clean it up. He tells me all the time how much he appreciates everything I do and how much I mean to him. So why did it hurt?

There is no reasoning with this. For me when this happens (and it could simply be a tone) something inside me shrivels into a little vulnerable ball and my emotions rush to put up walls and close the gate, leaving me confused and spiraling. I've never talked about this before because honestly, it's embarrassing. I'm ashamed that I have those reactions. I'm frustrated with myself at being so weak and have tried everything I can think of to not react that way.

And so I've had to ask myself: Why do I feel my worth is in what I do? Why do I believe I’ll only be loved if I get everything right? Why do I feel I will be rejected if people know my struggles? I don’t place that burden on anyone else. I love and accept others freely, flaws and all. Why can’t I extend that same grace to myself? The answer, I'm finding, is hard wired into my soul.

Psychology Today says:

"This phenomenon, known as emotional triggering, occurs when a present event echoes an unresolved emotional experience from the past. In such moments, the brain "time travels," responding beyond the current reality to connect with the emotional charge of earlier, formative experiences." This article, and several others, say we have to understand how we were wronged in our childhood and how those emotional, survival triggers were created. Some call it "getting in touch with your inner child". Then through time, introspection, and costly therapy, you may just get a handle on it. Eventually. I agree recognizing how you were shaped, why you think and respond like you do is good. Acknowledgment is definitely a first step. But I have found another solution.

No matter how you were hurt, or treated, or raised, at the deepest level, I think the cry that rises above all others is this: to be fully known and fully seen. To have our naked souls laid bare—the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the broken—and yet at the same time know, without a doubt, that we are fully loved, completely accepted, and desperately wanted. That’s the longing of humanity that Jesus came to fulfill. And what I've come to realize is, that's the Gospel in a nutshell.

So I'm really not interested in getting in touch with my inner child or going through the filing cabinet of my soul to find out why my emotional triggers send me spiraling or who's fault it is. All I need know is it's there and I'm not devalued because of it. I'm aware the secular world and religious institutions are able to provide me temporary relief for this pain, but I have to keep going back to get the prescription filled. I'm so tired of doing it that way. I'd rather be healed and call it a day.

How do we find healing for our broken souls? Well, what I've discovered recently is that Jesus meant these words: "Seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33). That’s not theory or a cliche phrase to me any more—it’s my testimony. The more I started to simply obey what He told us to do, the more I discovered He was quietly taking care of "these things". Things I used to take offense to, I just don't anymore. Comments that would send me spiraling don't even phase me.

And I feel better equipped to deal with the other triggers when they raise their ugly head. Because even if others think I’m not enough, even if they see failure, even if I fall short of their expectations, it doesn’t matter anymore. The only One whose words define me already knows me fully, already loves me completely, and already calls me His beloved.

Final Thought:

One of the challenges in writing about these topics is knowing how much I have to leave out. I can already hear all the "yeah buts" and "what ifs". Every issue has layers and nuances, and each of us is unique. So I don’t expect that the broad brushstrokes I talk about in this series applies to every person, in every situation, every time. What I share here in my series are simply principles that have helped me navigate some dark days in hopes they may assist your journey as well.

I mentioned earlier that my faith has become pretty simple - seeking the Kingdom - and I realize that alone is a massive theme, one that deserves its own book, let alone a few blog posts. It's not a "just leave it up to God" thing. Seeking is not passive, it's active. So I’m not denying the role of choice, reflection, self-examination, and action in our healing and transformation. Those things matter.

What I am pressing on is this: transformation is not a quick fix, and it’s not something you can grind out on your own strength. You can spend years striving to fix yourself and still end up stuck. Scripture says we are “transformed by the renewing of our minds” (Romans 12:2). That means real change is a process—one that requires both the partnership of the Spirit and the willing surrender of our will.

Healing the triggers that cause us to spiral isn’t me-only work, and it isn’t Spirit-only magic. It’s a holy collaboration—God’s power meeting our obedience, His Spirit renewing what we could never repair, and our surrender making room for His life in us. And once that dance gets its rhythm you'll find you'll be having much better days!