If ever I have doubts that Jordan has been graced with hard-core anxiety, I can always remind myself with this little anecdote. We were having our upstairs bathroom remodeled, and Jordan got locked in our bedroom. When I say locked in, I don't mean that the door accidentally locked from the outside. I guess a better word would be she got "stuck" in our bedroom.
Obviously she had planned on leaving the room, but she noticed a mess of tools laying right outside our door. In her mind, this meant she could possibly come in contact with the contractor. Between the unorganized tool pile, and the slight chance of seeing the worker, she was petrified. And she couldn't leave our room.
So she gently closed the door, stood by herself, and cried. She didn't yell out to me. She didn't make a quick run for it. She just froze. Eventually I realized she hadn't come downstairs in a while, and I found her standing right behind the door, quietly crying.
Now that's anxiety.
Remember how Jordan ended up getting helplessly lost, when she couldn't pull the cord on the bus ride to Arcadia? Well, after reading the next section of my journal, I probably shouldn't have been as surprised as I was.
Because although there have been many, many positive changes throughout the years, apparently, a lot has also stayed the same.