Anonymous
Well-known member
Like so many here, I thought it might be useful to tell my story of life with Social Anxiety. At the very least maybe you’ll find it interesting, althought I fear it got a little long. I think my SA is a little different than most. Luckily, it’s not crippling for me, and I guess I’ve learned to cope via logic, stubbornness, determination, shame and anger. Perhaps it has even helped me in some ways.
I’m 31 and male. I’m not ugly, but neither am I beautiful. Pretty plain looking overall. I began to realize I had SA about 4 years ago when talk shows and ads started discussing it. I have most of the classic symptoms (live like a hermit, despise the phone, feel like everyone is judging me or making fun of me, worry I’m putting people out, blush, make excuses to avoid any social activities, etc.) but overall have adjusted to live with it; I guess I’m fortunate in that regard. I can certainly appreciate how SA could totally ruin a life. I have two master’s degrees, a good job, solid performance reviews, and I am hoping for a promotion soon. I work as an engineer, which is probably a pretty good field for someone with SA. You get to work alone and people almost expect you to be socially awkward.
I’ve always been quiet. My older sister talked non-stop and I never really had much opportunity while growing up. I grew up on a farm in Iowa, and there were no kids my age around. Otherwise, my family was picture perfect; certainly no abuse or addictions or anything like that. In early elementary school I was fairly outgoing, but as the social scene evolved, cliques formed and popularity because an issue – I began the early signs of SA. I remember one moment in 5th grade that probably changed my life. During lunch Buzzy (really, that’s his name) was making fun of everything I said and everyone was laughing at me. I decided then that if I said nothing he’d have nothing to make fun of. I’m sure that revelation had long-lasting effects; it’s what started my conversion to a serious introvert.
Junior High was just a bad time, but that’s an almost universal truth. My two best friends had moved away and I never really felt comfortable with the people who were left. I guess nothing too bad happened, except someone said the meanest thing to me I’ve ever heard. A girl I would have labeled as a minor friend turned to me once as we talked and said “God, shut your face. You’re ugly as sin.” It was totally out of the blue and said with such malice that I can’t but believe she meant it. 18 years later I still think about it.
But things got worse in high school. I was small for my age, and one of the youngest in my class. I was always afraid of being physically hurt or bullied. My school was about as boring and safe as you can get, so perhaps it wasn’t a justified fear. But I was tripped, pushed, slapped, shoved and had the books knocked from my hands numerous times, so I lived in fear of those events. What if a cheerleader saw my humiliation, or one of my ‘friends’? I tried to move between classes as fast as possible. My whole high school goal became not to be noticed. I never spoke up, wore interesting clothes, or did anything that would draw attention to me. I was not unpopular, but had no real friends – at least no one I would feel comfortable calling on the phone or asking to hang-out with me.
It was during high school I became very sensitive about my intelligence. I was a very good student, but had just missed out on the honors classes (because assignment to them is really done in 8th grade, which wasn’t my best academic year. Miss out then and you’re screwed forever. Stupid system) so the really good students never took me seriously. Somehow, being considered dumb became a worry of mine. The good news is it pushed me to succeed in school.
The only semi-good year in high-school was my senior year, when I was no longer terrified, was confident in my intelligence and had developed a few real friends (at least what I classify as friends). I knew a few girls (popular ones even) well enough that they thought I was sweet. But not well enough for romance.
No history of high school would be complete without mentioning the girl I was crazy for. I was in love the first time I saw her in 7th grade. We became good friends in 8th grade and stayed that way for a few years. I finally asked her out my junior year. She said ‘no,’ which didn’t surprise me … she was out of my league. But that caused our relationship to go downhill and she ignored me a few times in ways that really hurt. Too be fair, maybe I did some dumb things. If it was anyone else I would have shaken it off, but she wasn’t the type to be rude. Even today I’m not sure what to make of the way our relationship collapsed.
I went out-of-state for college and had a pretty good time in the dorms for 2 years and even made some friends. I guess my SA was almost in remission, but I was still shy and quiet. I made one decision about college that I now almost regret: I decided that grades came first. I studied one of the hardest majors you can have (to prove to people I wasn’t dumb), and I demanded of myself that I get good grades (same reason). I’m smart, but certainly not gifted; I earned my grades by a lot of hard work. This meant I locked my door and studied while others were out socializing. I’m sure SA also played a part in that choice. In hindsight, I should have let the grades slip a tad and honed my social skills. By my junior/senior years I no longer had any classes with my friends from the first years and became a recluse.
My grades were good enough to get me a fellowship at an excellent university. Grad school was much the same and was 18 months of studying alone. Perhaps the only difference was I was surrounded by truly gifted people. Honestly, I wasn’t in their intellectual league, and if you’ve read this far you know how I feel about looking stupid. I think that’s part of the reason I didn’t socialize. I did have one good friend in grad school. He was outgoing and incredibly good-looking. He could see the difference in me when I was alone with him and when I clammed up around others. He tried to bring me out of my shell, without much luck. But really, I’m not sure being friends with him helped me any. It made me more self-conscious. We regularly walked across campus together and I realized how good some people had life. He was so handsome that women (gorgeous ones) routinely smiled at him, said ‘hello’, turned their heads to look at him and even approached him in bars. In all my life I’ve never had that happen to me. He’d get 5 such encounters walking a few hundred yards between buildings. I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I think about it often and wish I’d been as fortunate.
After graduation I got an ok job, but it has been at work that SA really came to dominate my life. I work alone, live alone, have no real friends and don’t know if I really want any. I never, ever go out looking to meet people. I just can’t talk to strangers. I go blank. I feel safe and secure at home. No one judges me, I can make all the mistakes I want. I hate it when a vendor takes me out to lunch as I have to try to talk for an hour. I’m bad at it. Worse, perhaps, I just don’t care about them. I have to ask about their family or whatever when it is of no personal interest to me.
For some reason, public speaking does not bother me that much. I’m nervous before hand, but once I get going I’m fine. After about five minutes, I can actually enjoy it – provided it’s work related. The few speeches or papers I had to do for school that were about ‘me’ were hard. Needless to say, I fabricated a story and that helped me get by. I hope teachers and professors realize how hard sharing personal details can be for some.
When I realized my SA was a problem, I went to night school to get an MBA to see if I couldn’t overcome this situation. It didn’t help, in fact working with idiot teams turned me off of people even more than before. I got the degree and graduated in the top 15% of my class; I would have been closer to the top if I hadn’t continually gotten knocked down for lack of class participation. But making comments and expressing my thoughts on business cases was terrifying. I couldn’t do it. Don’t ask me why I can give a prepared presentation but can’t raise my hand in class. I don’t know.
It was at this time that a couple I thought were my friends abandoned me. I guess they didn’t like me - because they sure as hell quit talking to me. I really liked them and often think about what I did wrong.
You may have noticed I’ve not mentioned anything about girlfriends. Well, there haven’t been any. Not one. Not even close. Not a single date or even a kiss. Ever. I’ve only been hugged once, but I don’t think that counts as anything since I helped her move her luggage. I never got a single note passed to me in high school or sent one of the traditional Christmas candy canes. I can’t recall anyone ever flirting with me. When I was in grad school I began to realize I didn’t have the skills to date and that it would be too embarrassing. What woman would want someone who can’t kiss and doesn’t have a clue about relationships or dating? Would she tell my friends or co-workers about my failures? As I get older, those fears grow worse. I don’t even try anymore; it’s been five years since I’ve even thought of asking for a date. I’ve seen a few of those dating shows on TV, and I realize I just don’t have the right stuff. I have no confidence, just self-consciousness. I also know that I can’t open up to anyone.
I haven’t asked that many girls out, but I saw the pain on their faces when they had to tell me ‘no.’ I guess that’s one of the reasons I stopped, I realized it was mean to put them in an uncomfortable situation. Now, I realize that I am too boring and sad and paranoid to keep them - if ever I could get a date. I’ll never go on a blind date because I can’t carry-on a conversation with a strange girl. Fortunately, no one has ever offered to set me up on one. I’m not sure if that fact should hurt my feelings or not. I (wrongly) believe my best chance to get a girl is through sympathy and pity, so I don’t make much effort to act positive. Probably not a great strategy, but what ya gonna do? To top it all off I think I’ve become a misogynist. Oh, I still worship women, but I hate them all the same and can’t really relate to them. To me they aren’t people, but walking/talking reminders that I’m a loser.
Today SA is in full swing, but I get by. People think I’m odd and quiet, but I don’t think anyone suspects the real cause. I’m sure my co-workers know I don’t date, I just wonder what they say about it. I don’t take up any interesting hobbies because people might talk to me about them, or I might not be good at them. I still just want to be anonymous.
This letter is probably getting too long, but stick with me for one more topic I don’t see discussed often here: feeling sorry for oneself. I am a world-class, black-belted master of this. It’s bad and negative and I shouldn’t do it – but to me it is bliss. That part of the brain must be wedged up tight against the pleasure sensors. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and comfortable and secure. I know that feeling sorry for myself is something I can always do and it can’t be taken away. It’s my crutch, my blanket, my shield. I fall asleep every night ‘fantasizing’ about girls hating me. When I wake up I spend 15 minutes thinking about how my co-workers hate me and how I can possibly get through the day. Do other people with SA feel this way?
I also know I suffer from some minor depression, but I’m used to it and not sure I’ve ever known anything else. Again, it is almost comforting in its persistent presence. On those rare nights when I feel happy I wonder why I spend so much time allowing myself to be sad depressed. But most nights, I wonder what I’m to do with my life. Is it just another 50 years of this then death? I’m not suicidal, although I’ll confess to ‘fantasizing’ about how sorry and guilty everyone would feel if I did it. But I won’t.
So that’s my story. This is the way I am and I’ve never really considered seeing a therapist. You’ll probably advise me to do that, but I know I won’t. I’m not going to go to church or seek out a support group. I think this is with me for life. That’s ok. It’s bearable. I’ve grown to dislike people enough that I don’t think I even care to rejoin society. I’ll get by.
I’m 31 and male. I’m not ugly, but neither am I beautiful. Pretty plain looking overall. I began to realize I had SA about 4 years ago when talk shows and ads started discussing it. I have most of the classic symptoms (live like a hermit, despise the phone, feel like everyone is judging me or making fun of me, worry I’m putting people out, blush, make excuses to avoid any social activities, etc.) but overall have adjusted to live with it; I guess I’m fortunate in that regard. I can certainly appreciate how SA could totally ruin a life. I have two master’s degrees, a good job, solid performance reviews, and I am hoping for a promotion soon. I work as an engineer, which is probably a pretty good field for someone with SA. You get to work alone and people almost expect you to be socially awkward.
I’ve always been quiet. My older sister talked non-stop and I never really had much opportunity while growing up. I grew up on a farm in Iowa, and there were no kids my age around. Otherwise, my family was picture perfect; certainly no abuse or addictions or anything like that. In early elementary school I was fairly outgoing, but as the social scene evolved, cliques formed and popularity because an issue – I began the early signs of SA. I remember one moment in 5th grade that probably changed my life. During lunch Buzzy (really, that’s his name) was making fun of everything I said and everyone was laughing at me. I decided then that if I said nothing he’d have nothing to make fun of. I’m sure that revelation had long-lasting effects; it’s what started my conversion to a serious introvert.
Junior High was just a bad time, but that’s an almost universal truth. My two best friends had moved away and I never really felt comfortable with the people who were left. I guess nothing too bad happened, except someone said the meanest thing to me I’ve ever heard. A girl I would have labeled as a minor friend turned to me once as we talked and said “God, shut your face. You’re ugly as sin.” It was totally out of the blue and said with such malice that I can’t but believe she meant it. 18 years later I still think about it.
But things got worse in high school. I was small for my age, and one of the youngest in my class. I was always afraid of being physically hurt or bullied. My school was about as boring and safe as you can get, so perhaps it wasn’t a justified fear. But I was tripped, pushed, slapped, shoved and had the books knocked from my hands numerous times, so I lived in fear of those events. What if a cheerleader saw my humiliation, or one of my ‘friends’? I tried to move between classes as fast as possible. My whole high school goal became not to be noticed. I never spoke up, wore interesting clothes, or did anything that would draw attention to me. I was not unpopular, but had no real friends – at least no one I would feel comfortable calling on the phone or asking to hang-out with me.
It was during high school I became very sensitive about my intelligence. I was a very good student, but had just missed out on the honors classes (because assignment to them is really done in 8th grade, which wasn’t my best academic year. Miss out then and you’re screwed forever. Stupid system) so the really good students never took me seriously. Somehow, being considered dumb became a worry of mine. The good news is it pushed me to succeed in school.
The only semi-good year in high-school was my senior year, when I was no longer terrified, was confident in my intelligence and had developed a few real friends (at least what I classify as friends). I knew a few girls (popular ones even) well enough that they thought I was sweet. But not well enough for romance.
No history of high school would be complete without mentioning the girl I was crazy for. I was in love the first time I saw her in 7th grade. We became good friends in 8th grade and stayed that way for a few years. I finally asked her out my junior year. She said ‘no,’ which didn’t surprise me … she was out of my league. But that caused our relationship to go downhill and she ignored me a few times in ways that really hurt. Too be fair, maybe I did some dumb things. If it was anyone else I would have shaken it off, but she wasn’t the type to be rude. Even today I’m not sure what to make of the way our relationship collapsed.
I went out-of-state for college and had a pretty good time in the dorms for 2 years and even made some friends. I guess my SA was almost in remission, but I was still shy and quiet. I made one decision about college that I now almost regret: I decided that grades came first. I studied one of the hardest majors you can have (to prove to people I wasn’t dumb), and I demanded of myself that I get good grades (same reason). I’m smart, but certainly not gifted; I earned my grades by a lot of hard work. This meant I locked my door and studied while others were out socializing. I’m sure SA also played a part in that choice. In hindsight, I should have let the grades slip a tad and honed my social skills. By my junior/senior years I no longer had any classes with my friends from the first years and became a recluse.
My grades were good enough to get me a fellowship at an excellent university. Grad school was much the same and was 18 months of studying alone. Perhaps the only difference was I was surrounded by truly gifted people. Honestly, I wasn’t in their intellectual league, and if you’ve read this far you know how I feel about looking stupid. I think that’s part of the reason I didn’t socialize. I did have one good friend in grad school. He was outgoing and incredibly good-looking. He could see the difference in me when I was alone with him and when I clammed up around others. He tried to bring me out of my shell, without much luck. But really, I’m not sure being friends with him helped me any. It made me more self-conscious. We regularly walked across campus together and I realized how good some people had life. He was so handsome that women (gorgeous ones) routinely smiled at him, said ‘hello’, turned their heads to look at him and even approached him in bars. In all my life I’ve never had that happen to me. He’d get 5 such encounters walking a few hundred yards between buildings. I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I think about it often and wish I’d been as fortunate.
After graduation I got an ok job, but it has been at work that SA really came to dominate my life. I work alone, live alone, have no real friends and don’t know if I really want any. I never, ever go out looking to meet people. I just can’t talk to strangers. I go blank. I feel safe and secure at home. No one judges me, I can make all the mistakes I want. I hate it when a vendor takes me out to lunch as I have to try to talk for an hour. I’m bad at it. Worse, perhaps, I just don’t care about them. I have to ask about their family or whatever when it is of no personal interest to me.
For some reason, public speaking does not bother me that much. I’m nervous before hand, but once I get going I’m fine. After about five minutes, I can actually enjoy it – provided it’s work related. The few speeches or papers I had to do for school that were about ‘me’ were hard. Needless to say, I fabricated a story and that helped me get by. I hope teachers and professors realize how hard sharing personal details can be for some.
When I realized my SA was a problem, I went to night school to get an MBA to see if I couldn’t overcome this situation. It didn’t help, in fact working with idiot teams turned me off of people even more than before. I got the degree and graduated in the top 15% of my class; I would have been closer to the top if I hadn’t continually gotten knocked down for lack of class participation. But making comments and expressing my thoughts on business cases was terrifying. I couldn’t do it. Don’t ask me why I can give a prepared presentation but can’t raise my hand in class. I don’t know.
It was at this time that a couple I thought were my friends abandoned me. I guess they didn’t like me - because they sure as hell quit talking to me. I really liked them and often think about what I did wrong.
You may have noticed I’ve not mentioned anything about girlfriends. Well, there haven’t been any. Not one. Not even close. Not a single date or even a kiss. Ever. I’ve only been hugged once, but I don’t think that counts as anything since I helped her move her luggage. I never got a single note passed to me in high school or sent one of the traditional Christmas candy canes. I can’t recall anyone ever flirting with me. When I was in grad school I began to realize I didn’t have the skills to date and that it would be too embarrassing. What woman would want someone who can’t kiss and doesn’t have a clue about relationships or dating? Would she tell my friends or co-workers about my failures? As I get older, those fears grow worse. I don’t even try anymore; it’s been five years since I’ve even thought of asking for a date. I’ve seen a few of those dating shows on TV, and I realize I just don’t have the right stuff. I have no confidence, just self-consciousness. I also know that I can’t open up to anyone.
I haven’t asked that many girls out, but I saw the pain on their faces when they had to tell me ‘no.’ I guess that’s one of the reasons I stopped, I realized it was mean to put them in an uncomfortable situation. Now, I realize that I am too boring and sad and paranoid to keep them - if ever I could get a date. I’ll never go on a blind date because I can’t carry-on a conversation with a strange girl. Fortunately, no one has ever offered to set me up on one. I’m not sure if that fact should hurt my feelings or not. I (wrongly) believe my best chance to get a girl is through sympathy and pity, so I don’t make much effort to act positive. Probably not a great strategy, but what ya gonna do? To top it all off I think I’ve become a misogynist. Oh, I still worship women, but I hate them all the same and can’t really relate to them. To me they aren’t people, but walking/talking reminders that I’m a loser.
Today SA is in full swing, but I get by. People think I’m odd and quiet, but I don’t think anyone suspects the real cause. I’m sure my co-workers know I don’t date, I just wonder what they say about it. I don’t take up any interesting hobbies because people might talk to me about them, or I might not be good at them. I still just want to be anonymous.
This letter is probably getting too long, but stick with me for one more topic I don’t see discussed often here: feeling sorry for oneself. I am a world-class, black-belted master of this. It’s bad and negative and I shouldn’t do it – but to me it is bliss. That part of the brain must be wedged up tight against the pleasure sensors. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and comfortable and secure. I know that feeling sorry for myself is something I can always do and it can’t be taken away. It’s my crutch, my blanket, my shield. I fall asleep every night ‘fantasizing’ about girls hating me. When I wake up I spend 15 minutes thinking about how my co-workers hate me and how I can possibly get through the day. Do other people with SA feel this way?
I also know I suffer from some minor depression, but I’m used to it and not sure I’ve ever known anything else. Again, it is almost comforting in its persistent presence. On those rare nights when I feel happy I wonder why I spend so much time allowing myself to be sad depressed. But most nights, I wonder what I’m to do with my life. Is it just another 50 years of this then death? I’m not suicidal, although I’ll confess to ‘fantasizing’ about how sorry and guilty everyone would feel if I did it. But I won’t.
So that’s my story. This is the way I am and I’ve never really considered seeing a therapist. You’ll probably advise me to do that, but I know I won’t. I’m not going to go to church or seek out a support group. I think this is with me for life. That’s ok. It’s bearable. I’ve grown to dislike people enough that I don’t think I even care to rejoin society. I’ll get by.