I have always struggled when it comes to social
interactions. I have always been aware of others awareness of me. I remember
having such thoughts ever since I was in day care, my first social habitat
outside of my family. Even at such a young age, I knew that people JUDGE. As I
grew, it became even more evident that those who say they don’t DO. No one is
immune. It’s part of our humanness, our senses take in another persons being and
those senses are filtered through our world view. We perceive and make
opinions, that being the exact definition of judgement. And that is what has
always scared me.
I know I care too much what others think. But it goes beyond
that, it is a genuine phobia of mine to be disliked for the image I project, an
image that in part, I have little control over. The filter through which people
look at me is nothing I can influence. The image I portray is precarious on
this precipice. One false move on my part can push me over the edge in another’s
good opinion of me.
Now, too most people, I wouldn’t be viewed as ‘weird’ or run the risk of being faux diagnosed with Asperger’s, or anything. At best I would be described as shy, at worst, awkward. To say I am introverted is an understatement.
I should point out that my disorder mostly relates to
strangers, and people that I have met and have not formed close friendships
with, aka acquaintances. Once I overcome the initial fear and find people I
genuinely connect with, I find it fairly easy to open myself up to friendship,
and can even become opinionated, loud, and generally lively in small groups of
people I am comfortable and familiar with. So to all my friends, I’m sorry but
you will never get rid of me, as the task of making new friends is too
daunting. No, the major fear for me is the first impression, or even the
second, third, fourth, ect, ect) Until that invisible line of friendship has been
crossed, I am afraid. Unfortunately since, “no man is an island” I know I will
never have the option of avoiding social situations that make me feel fear.
It’s not the ‘during’ of social interactions, that is the
worst, it’s the before and after. Before any social interaction (even sometimes
a simple phone conversation, or even an email exchange) I obsess relentlessly
about the setting, the people, but mostly about my actions and words that are
yet to be brought into existence. Will I stutter (a mild childhood throwback)?
Will I have food in my teeth? Will I overshare? Will I come across as self-absorbed?
I will start obsessing over the obsessing. Often that leads to a string of
thoughts of: “I must have a debilitating
mental illness if I’m so paranoid about social interactions. If I participate
in said interactions will my mental disorder be evident? Will that paint me
with a brush whose paint can’t easily be removed?” It’s a cycle, a scary one
that in the past has often made me avoid social interactions all together.
I can feel it now, the intense feelings of scrutiny as I
walk into a social gathering. I feel like people are watching me, judging me.
It makes my pulse race, my skin sweaty, and my heart thump in my chest. I know this all may sound silly to those who
know nothing of what I’m talking about, but that is precisely the point of me
writing this. Cerebrally, I KNOW that most people aren’t watching the door, fingers clenched in anticipation, just waiting and
looking for people to judge, but to those who suffer from social anxiety
disorder, this is how it feels. And that’s just the part of walking into a
gathering. If someone I don’t know makes a point of talking to me, the feelings
of fear are even more pervasive. What if I say the wrong thing? What if the
fear is so great that I can’t converse and all I can do is make noncommittal noises?
What if at close range they notice my forehead lined with sweat, wet marks
under my armpits? The physical manifestations from this disorder always compound
the insecurities. Wall flower? Try a wet wilted, grunting wall flower. Not a
pretty picture.
Thus I have tried to avoid socially interacting with others
when I can, but mostly because I am in relationships with people who rather
enjoy socializing, force myself to socialize alongside them. In order to actually participate in a social life,
In order to cope I have adopted
the attitude of the kid at the pool who has just climbed the 10 foot platform.
I know I can’t climb down the way I came; I have to walk to the edge, heart pounding,
and close my eyes and step of the ledge, all the while hoping not to flail, or
belly flop. This method has been mostly
successful. Closing my mind’s eye to the present, while interacting with others
helps me get through the process, and sometimes even enjoy it.
But then there is the “after” part of socializing. And
again, it involves more obsessing about things said, or unsaid. Wishing I had
done different things, or made better impressions. And due to those obsessions,
I try to make resolves to not put myself in those situations again. Or when
having to re-interact with the people I have (in my mind) made poor impressions
on, obsess about better (more normal) ways to socialize with them. Again, it’s
a cyclical pattern of fear.
There was a year or two as I stepped into adulthood when I
was sick of being who I was, and put on the "popular girl" persona. I
surprised myself at my acting abilities. I played the social butterfly but
obviously it couldn't and didn't last. Now as I look back I can see that the
strain that this act caused on my psyche was one of a few factors that led me
to a huge mental break down, which ended with me in a psych ward. (very Girl
Interrupted, I know). There were moments, since then that I have felt it was
easier to adopt the mask, than have to succumb to my fears. I stepped into my
character, and played a part. Every single time I did that I came out
exhausted; I realise now that the recovery process to reclaim my true self was arduous,
and the results were never worth it. But succumbing to my fears was not an
option either.
Before I was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder, and
especially after, I felt great despair and hopelessness. I had a dream of
becoming a successful artist. And this realization, this name that was
attributed to my anxieties, made it seem like this dream was not within the
realm of attainability. I was well aware that in order to be a successful
artist, one needs to be a shameless self-promoter. And that is the farthest
thing from what I was. I was acutely aware that in order to be an artist, I would have
to actually show people (strangers) my art (a shocking realisation, I know).
A few years ago, tired of the stagnancy in my life, I
decided to be BRAVE (more on that in another post). I made and packed up some art,
and participated in a festival. To my surprise, almost every single item I had displayed
ended up selling! An even greater shock came when I realised that not once
during that entire weekend of interacting with strangers, did I feel any fear. Watching
all these unfamiliar people react positively to something I had poured my heart
and soul into, gave me strength to be able to approach and relate to them,
without fear of their judgement. They had judged my art and were appreciative,
so by extension that directly reflected their view of me as a person.
With my art between me and the world I have finally found my
armour. I am an artist; I am valuable in the fabric of society. I blanket
myself in this realisation, so even when I don’t have a piece of my art to hold
up as a shield, I throw out the fear by wearing and being proud of my identity.
ART HAS SAVED ME FROM MY FEAR. If you feel art in your soul, express it, it may just save you too.
Here is a poem I wrote while in the throes of my disorder:
I look out the window to watch the rain slowly fall
I can’t stay inside I get tired of chaining myself to the wall
so I look through my closet for something to wear
I need something to hide in so people won’t stare
I throw on my invisible hat
put on my invisible jacket
slip on my invisible shoes
you can’t see me
but I can see you
I always try to hide my face
no one to invade my space
some say I’m lonely
I say I’m safe.
