I Have Social Anxiety
As I like to do often, I went for a hike today. Going out is typically not associated with social anxiety, but staying true to my nature, I set my alarm for 6 AM so I could make it out there early enough to avoid the virtually non-existent Thursday morning crowds on the off chance that I may have to face the peril of crossing paths with someone.
I was in such a rush to get out that I accidentally left one of my water bottles on the kitchen counter. Seeing as that my roommates were also up getting for work, I decided to make do with the other water bottle I had left rather than risk running into someone I share a roof with.
As it was a hot summer day, it did not take long for me to exhaust my water supply. And as the morning dragged on and the temperature rose, I became increasingly parched. My throat was arid, my tongue dry, and the cottonmouth sensation made it painfully clear that I was in need of water. Seeing as I was several miles from any running water and still had about 6.5 miles left of trails to explore, I decided that to turn around to get water would put me in danger of having less solitude on this hike were I to resume it afterwards.
So I kept going, and the ever-growing desert in my mouth made me suffer for it. I did run across several people on this hike however, but rather than burden them for a few drops of their water, I resolved to endure the scorching sun and strenuous hike without a word spoken after the compulsory greetings I muttered.
I finished the hike in one piece. Being a relatively fit individual in their prime health has its advantages. But despite that, it was agonizing. For the last 4 miles or so of the hike I kept recalling headlines of athletes that died during summer practices and the little I remember of heat strokes and heat exhaustion and wondered if the same would happen to me. In light of these thoughts, I still declined to ask any of the strangers I came across for water.
It then dawned on me that I would rather put my physical well-being into harm's way than talk to a stranger. I already knew that I threw my mental well-being to the wolves by abstaining from therapy, and my emotional well-being in the garbage by dodging any intimate connections, but this goes against my very human instinct of self-preservation.
It's embarrassing to admit this to myself, let alone the entire Internet. I'm an adult. I've been financially independent since before I was 21. I have earned two Bachelor's degrees from one of the best public universities in the world. I have had the courage to leave everything I knew behind and travel to different parts of the country. And despite all this, I'm so deeply terrified of being misunderstood that I can't even hold a conversation if my life depended on it, literally.
I thought I was in an okay spot in my life. I'm doing modestly well financially, I'm respected at work, I have hobbies I enjoy, I'm always learning new things, and for the first time in my life I'm able to maintain a friendship. Before today, I genuinely believed I was getting better. I felt like I was more confident presently than I'd ever been. The people I work with everyday would even comment on the swagger I strut around with.
But maybe it isn't confidence that I've been exuding, but rather stubbornness. An obstinate will to do things on my own terms. A model that I had faith in only because it allowed me to avoid the thing I wanted to avoid most: fear. The fear that I might be judged unfairly. The fear that I didn't deserve someone's time or kindness. The fear that I would be a burden to anyone I let close.
So all the trust I failed to bestow on other people I kept to myself. I walked with confidence not because I could handle anything I had to face, but because I couldn't rely on anyone else to. Today was a big insight into what I thought of myself, and not really in a good way. There's a lot of work still yet to do
I was in such a rush to get out that I accidentally left one of my water bottles on the kitchen counter. Seeing as that my roommates were also up getting for work, I decided to make do with the other water bottle I had left rather than risk running into someone I share a roof with.
As it was a hot summer day, it did not take long for me to exhaust my water supply. And as the morning dragged on and the temperature rose, I became increasingly parched. My throat was arid, my tongue dry, and the cottonmouth sensation made it painfully clear that I was in need of water. Seeing as I was several miles from any running water and still had about 6.5 miles left of trails to explore, I decided that to turn around to get water would put me in danger of having less solitude on this hike were I to resume it afterwards.
So I kept going, and the ever-growing desert in my mouth made me suffer for it. I did run across several people on this hike however, but rather than burden them for a few drops of their water, I resolved to endure the scorching sun and strenuous hike without a word spoken after the compulsory greetings I muttered.
I finished the hike in one piece. Being a relatively fit individual in their prime health has its advantages. But despite that, it was agonizing. For the last 4 miles or so of the hike I kept recalling headlines of athletes that died during summer practices and the little I remember of heat strokes and heat exhaustion and wondered if the same would happen to me. In light of these thoughts, I still declined to ask any of the strangers I came across for water.
It then dawned on me that I would rather put my physical well-being into harm's way than talk to a stranger. I already knew that I threw my mental well-being to the wolves by abstaining from therapy, and my emotional well-being in the garbage by dodging any intimate connections, but this goes against my very human instinct of self-preservation.
It's embarrassing to admit this to myself, let alone the entire Internet. I'm an adult. I've been financially independent since before I was 21. I have earned two Bachelor's degrees from one of the best public universities in the world. I have had the courage to leave everything I knew behind and travel to different parts of the country. And despite all this, I'm so deeply terrified of being misunderstood that I can't even hold a conversation if my life depended on it, literally.
I thought I was in an okay spot in my life. I'm doing modestly well financially, I'm respected at work, I have hobbies I enjoy, I'm always learning new things, and for the first time in my life I'm able to maintain a friendship. Before today, I genuinely believed I was getting better. I felt like I was more confident presently than I'd ever been. The people I work with everyday would even comment on the swagger I strut around with.
But maybe it isn't confidence that I've been exuding, but rather stubbornness. An obstinate will to do things on my own terms. A model that I had faith in only because it allowed me to avoid the thing I wanted to avoid most: fear. The fear that I might be judged unfairly. The fear that I didn't deserve someone's time or kindness. The fear that I would be a burden to anyone I let close.
So all the trust I failed to bestow on other people I kept to myself. I walked with confidence not because I could handle anything I had to face, but because I couldn't rely on anyone else to. Today was a big insight into what I thought of myself, and not really in a good way. There's a lot of work still yet to do
