I’m specifically talking about my social anxiety. If I gave in to my hermit tendencies and let them win – I would never, ever leave my house. Like ever. If I won the lottery and had money coming out of my ears – I’d use it to enable myself to never have to see any other human beings in the world except my closest family members. I wouldn’t travel or go places or make visits. I would stay. In my house. Every single day and love every single moment.Now though - I go to events and out with friends and for days and hours before the moment I’m supposed to leave – I try to figure out ways to get out of it. I pray for the person I’m meeting to cancel on me. I pray that my car doesn’t start or I get sick and I have to cancel. Yes. So classy, isn’t it?
But then I go. I do the pep talk in my head, I get ready, I worry and try to push the anxiety aside though the hives show up and my stomach starts to hurt and I sweat. I’d do anything not to go but then my body would win and I would lose.Rambo and I went out both nights this weekend with great friends. I had a blast. At one point, I had to get a tissue to wipe my cheeks because I had so many tears of laughter running down them. How in the world had I – just hours before – been begging God to give me some reason not to go?
Anyway – I did both nights. Had a ton of fun – like I said.And Sunday?
My body was fed up. Mentally and physically exhausted from the tiring efforts it takes for me to be social. I hardly left my bed all day. Completely worthless.My body betrayed me. Two days of being social and it shuts down. It can’t take anymore. Had I had plans on Sunday – I would have cancelled. I would not have left my house. My body was screaming at me to shut the world out and revel in my space, my home, my comfort zone. It’s the only place that my mind feels completely safe.
And I hate it.I cried to Rambo saying, “Why can’t I be a normal person who goes out and is fine the next day? Why can’t I be social without my body giving out the day after from the stress?”
I don’t know. I doubt I ever will. I mean – I’m closing in on 40 and if I haven’t figured out how to go out for a few hours with friends without nearly losing my mind – then I ain’t ever figuring it out. It will always be work. Always be hard. The event will always be fun and always be worth it – and the aftermath will always make me angry and make me wonder why.I want to be a person who wants the curtains open so the sun can shine in. Instead I’ve always been the person who wants the shades shut and the light out. I don’t want to see out and don’t want anyone seeing in…to my house or my soul.
I want it dark. Like my fears and anxieties are. And if it’s dark maybe people will leave me alone and think I’m not home or worth the effort, you know?Years ago – I wouldn’t have been able to push myself with enough force to make me actually leave my house and go out and such. At some point in my life, I just decided not to let life pass me by and to “do it anyway”…even if my stomach was revolting and my body was hives from head to toe. I wasn’t going to let my anxiety win and miss any more activities and moments. But that doesn’t mean it got easier to do.
It’s just as hard. It feels like preparing for and then running a marathon. And the next day you are emotionally and physically spent. Over and over again – I train for and run marathons.I just want it to be easy. Just one time. And know what that feels like.
It’s so mind boggling that my mind and body find it hard to be with the people I love. It feels like a betrayal of myself.I’m sick of training and running. I really just want to sit in the stands and enjoy the show.