Anxious of You

"You've been invited to your partner's work do and you're stressing about what to wear and how you might cope with meeting a new group of people. You consider making an excuse not to go but decide you should to keep your partner happy. While you're there, you're churning inside but manage to keep up a facade that you're really enjoying yourself. But you go to pieces when you get home, worrying about what you said and what other people may think of you.
For about 5% of the population who have a social phobia, this is a familiar scenario. The condition is characterised by a disabling fear that other people will find fault with them or think that they are incompetent, strange, or unacceptable. This can lead to them either avoiding the situation they are afraid of or putting up with it, which can lead to them suffering intense distress."
-Article "More Than Shyness..." Healthfirst Magazine, July 2007

When I read this, and the rest of the article, I really felt like I was reading about myself.

Sometimes I get so anxious about being in a social gathering with other people that I would rather stay home and cry than go. This happened a lot during the summer of 2004 when I had just gone flatting, and I attributed it to depression. I particularly remember being invited to a friend's 21st party, but not being able to find anyone to go with me, and then being so afraid of going by myself that I stayed home and wept. The girl was leaving to go overseas soon after, and I have never seen her again. I have always regretted not being strong enough to attend her party, or tell her why I did not go.
I also remember countless times of Adam being driven mad by my rage at not feeling confident enough to attend a certain event, usually with his friends. I would stay at home, while he went, rather than face them.
When I am in a store I am extremely self conscious. For example, yesterday I went to the local video hire shop. I had to stand a particular way, because I didn't want the shop assistant to see I was breathing through my mouth (as I have a cold), my eyes were constantly darting around, believing that everyone was watching me, thinking rude thoughts about me.
Sometimes I will tell my husband a story, "I was at a cafe today, and it was full of posh people who kept staring at me like I was scum, with my dirty trousers and wayward hair. They glared at me, and turned their noses up when I smiled at them". He doesn't believe these stories, and maintains that I am over-analysing everything, that the people probably didn't even notice me, and certainly weren't thinking offensive thoughts about me.

But in my head they are.
They are obsessed with me, with how I am breathing, with my weight, with what I am wearing, with how I present myself, and most of all, what I say.



It feels good to put my thoughts down. Good because there is a certain freedom that comes with being open, and voicing the nagging analyses flying through my head.
As I wrote this last part, it made me wonder if maybe its not an outright Social Phobia, but if I really was right, and that my feelings of anxiety are actually triggered by events.
-I didn't want to socialise in 2004 because I was depressed about my Aunty moving away, and sick of repetitive conversations within a group of friends.
-I didn't go to the 21st because I had been to a previous party of this girl, and had been completely ignored by all but one of the snobby Girls High girls present.
-I get scared about going to gatherings of Adams friends because one of them told him that she didn't think I was right for Adam, and had an annoying sense of humour. Perhaps it is logical to be afraid of that.
-I am often cautious of Navs gatherings, as a person told Adam that I had an anger problem, could not deal with my issues, and had once shot her a deathly look during a group discussion. Again, perhaps it is normal to be anxious of seeing this person, when I had only been twice or three times actually IN a social setting with this person when they complained to my husband. How would they know my problems? But then, can't you see why I may think that everyone is analysing me, interpreting every expression on my face, noting down every little comment I make.

Perhaps it is totally normal that I am nervous about being in public, about being critiqued and analysed, and hated. Its true that I was bullied at highschool, that certain people did whisper abuse as I walked past, or take offense to my clothing.

Maybe I'm just normal and we are all afraid of what others think of us.



Why are you looking at me?
Am i so strange?
You talk amongst yourselves
Whats wrong with me today?

I have said many floaty things
not meant seriously
But you heard them and formed
strong opinions of me

I am too short, too fat, too dumb
hair too thick, eyes too blue
I have the wrong interests,
wrong hobbies, wrong talents

God do you love me,
cos I can't hear your voice
don't feel your touch
have you given up, too?