When things get really overwhelming is your first instinct is to pull away from everyone? You’re not alone. I do it too. It’s like my head just decides, “Okay, well, it's looking a bit stormy out there so we’re going to lock the doors, draw the curtains, and not let anyone in until we’ve figured this mess out.” Deep down, I know I have people who care about me and want to help. But in the moment, I’d rather curl up in my little cocoon than let anyone see what’s going on inside.
You know on social media there's all those memes and Reels about that friend who takes ages to reply and you only have a five-minute window to chat before they disappear for another week? Yeah, hi, that's me, and it's usually because of this.
Just the other week, I had one of those stormy times. Everything felt too much—work stress, personal stuff, even the little things like answering texts—and I just shut down. Instead of reaching out, I cancelled plans, turned my phone on silent, and convinced myself that this was the best way to handle it. Spoiler: it absolutely wasn’t.
Psychologists call this "social isolation," and it’s super common in people dealing with anxiety, depression, or general overwhelm. Dr. Guy Winch, a clinical psychologist and author, explains that when we’re in emotional turmoil, our instincts often push us toward behaviours that provide short-term relief but make things feel worse in the long run. Isolation feels safe in the moment, but it cuts us off from the very things that could help us heal—connection and support.
For me, the logic is usually this: If I can just figure out what’s wrong and fix it, then I’ll be okay. I convince myself that talking to someone will most likely cloud my judgment (because they might have different values to me and I have a tendency to assume others are smarter or their ideas more valuable than mine) or influence me in a way I’m not ready for. I tell myself I need to wrestle with the problem alone before I’m ready to invite anyone else in. Maybe there's a sense of shame there too, like I can't show how badly I'm really struggling, until I've made it better and less "embarrassing".
This mindset and the idea that we need to "fix" ourselves alone, is often a trap that keeps us stuck in the downward spiral. Research by Dr. John Cacioppo, who's a pioneer in social neuroscience, shows that isolation can make feelings of sadness and anxiety much worse, creating a vicious cycle.
But... self-isolation isn’t always a conscious choice. Sometimes, like I talked about just now, it’s driven by shame or a fear of being a burden. You know that voice in your head that says, “Everyone’s got their own problems. Why would they want to deal with mine?” Yeah, that voice is a liar. The truth is, the people who care about us genuinely want to be there, even when we’re at our messiest. And—surprise—most of the time, they don’t see us as a burden at all.
Breaking the cycle is the hard part. Sometimes, I’ll send a text to a friend just to say hi, even if I’m not ready to dive into a full-on back and forth conversation. Other times, I’ll make myself leave the house—even if it’s just to join someone for a dog walk—because being around people reminds me that I’m not as alone as I sometimes feel.
And when I do finally reach out, something magical happens. I realize that talking things through doesn’t take away my autonomy; it gives me perspective. My friends don’t try to fix me—they just listen, even if I'm scared they'll just my failures. That’s often enough to help me see the situation a little more clearly.
Why do we self-isolate when we’re struggling? Maybe it’s because vulnerability feels scary. Maybe it’s because we’re afraid of rejection or judgment. Maybe it’s just easier to retreat than to risk being misunderstood. Whatever the reason, the main thing is to remind ourselves that connection isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. Next time I feel like shutting everyone out, I’ll try to remember that letting someone in might be exactly what I need. I'm not saying I'll be perfect next time, but with baby steps, and over time, I might just get a bit better, and so might you.
What about you? Do you ever catch yourself pulling away when things get tough? If you do, I hope this reminds you that it’s okay to take your time—but it’s also okay to let people in, even when you’re not sure you’re ready.