I don’t see the glass have full or half empty, because that doesn’t really matter. I see it as already been used. Whose glass is that? Are they sick? Will I get a cold that turns into a cough that turns into pneumonia? As a pessimist, I see two things; what is happening around me, and also what horrible thing will happen next.

I expect the worst to happen all the time. When a baby is around me, I see her in my mind’s eye being dropped and crushed. When my cousin is racing along helmetless on a dirt bike, I imagine him riding right up a tree or being clotheslined by a branch. When someone is late picking me up, I imagine them flipping and crashing their car on the way. Sharp things make me nervous, because I know someone is going to drop a knife on their foot, or slip and cut off a finger. Even though I acknowledge that not everything I predict is realistic, I can’t prevent myself from seeing the worst scenario. That also means that when thing do go wrong, I am always prepared to act.

Those who know me say I look at the bad side of things. They’re right. I’m pessimistic. Once I open my mouth and say what I’m actually thinking, I just spew out everything that’s been stewing in the back of my mind. After driving on a highway, I couldn’t help myself. “Who knows? A semi driver might not see a red light because of the glare of the sun and I’ll get blindsided—or on the highway, trucks won’t see me and crush me against the rail,” I said to my friends. “Stop being so pessimistic,” they grumbled. “You’re making me feel depressed, and I don’t even drive.” When I started listing the possible disastrous situations that could accompany me as I flew alone to another country for five weeks, my classmates rolled their eyes at me and said, “Relax. Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t stress about it.” Even my younger sister admonishes me with a drawn out “Caitlin...” if I start going on about something negative.

I have to admit, my fears don’t always happen. I’m actually pleasantly surprised when something goes well. I fret about answers I put on tests; I had to have done terribly on that, I’ll say to myself. There is no way I got that right. Then I’m shocked when I get good grades. I’ve played percussion in band since the fifth grade, but before every concert I still see myself tripping and falling off the stage, and I just know I’ll bump into the xylophone or gong and send it rolling off the risers and plummeting to the trumpets. It’s a relief that has never happened, but that’s not really the point. All that matters is that I fear bad things will happen. That’s what being a pessimist means.

I do wear gray-tinted glasses. I can see what’s really happening, but I also see what could go wrong. Unlike glasses, pessimism is a part of me I can’t take off even though I’ve tried. I most likely haven’t convinced anyone that I am a pessimist. This is probably a bad article. I’m hopeless.