Socialising scares the shit out of me. I can’t remember the last time I socialised where I felt truly at ease. I freeze up, get awkward and everything feels unnatural. My anxiety comes in full force, arms swinging, ready to throw a punch. Just waiting to wound me. I feel like everyone in the room knows something about me that I don’t and everyone has something on me. It’s not an enjoyable experience.
It starts with the, “Hi, how are you?”, of which my response is generally, “I’m good”. But, especially at the moment, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It been a while since I genuinely felt good. If I was honest my response would be, “I’m effing shit. I don’t wanna be here”. But, who really wants to hear that? We all like to think that everyone is good, because it sucks when people aren’t.
It is a bit different if someone I know well is genuinely asking me how I am. But majority of the time it’s just easier to lie.
I sweat. I know, it’s bloody disgusting but it always happens. I get clammy and flustered. It’s all part of my anxiety’s game. Usually this then starts a new paranoia that I smell and that people can tell that I’m sweating and I spend the rest of the time with even lower self-esteem than when I walked in the door.
Usually I’m too scared to leave because I think that when I walk out the door everyone’s going to start talking shit about me. I have no idea what they would say but I always think it’ll be about how annoying I am or something weird I said. No, I don’t think that everything’s all about me. Hell no. But anxiety plays a cruel trick. And I’m talking about negative, not positive attention.
I usually can’t wait to get home, back to my sanctuary where I don’t have to talk to anyone, and the people I live with don’t make me feel panicked. I am an introvert, after all. I feel exhausted, like all of the life has been sapped out of me. It takes a lot of energy to put up a happy facade. In a way, I could be seen as being fake, but it’s the only way I’ve learnt to cope with social situations.
Anyway, all of this is why I’ll avoid social situations if I can. I generally only go if I feel like I have to, to show face. But if it was up to me, I’d stay at home in bed with my dog.
This is inspired by this Thought Catalogue post that got shared with me. Called ‘Depression makes me a Douchebag“. This could not be more accurate.