Besides outdoorsy stuff, like hunting, camping, and off-roading (all of which scare me to death, which is honestly part of the reason why I'm so drawn to those activities), I would love to be able to become much less socially anxious and timid around others. Unless there’s someone I know and trust around to break the ice for me, I can’t introduce myself to strangers without bringing myself to the brink of fight-or-flight. Hell, even when I’m with someone I know and trust who is willing to introduce me to other people, my blood pressure still skyrockets. Only, very few people realize it because I hide it so damn well.
My ability to hide my anxiety behind a facade of ease is both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing in the sense that it makes it possible for me to get shit done even when I'm scared, and makes the people around me think that I'm perfectly content and capable (which makes strangers feel more at-east with me). It's a curse in the sense that the few people I know and feel safest around often miss my anxiety, leaving me to sort of fend for myself unless I say something. However, it's incredibly hard for me to admit when I'm freaking the fuck out, mostly because I like to try to pretend that my anxiety doesn't exist in the first place. If I don't admit that I'm freaked out and could use a shoulder to lean on, then maybe the anxiety would just magically disappear. At least, that's what my pride and emotions would have me believe.
But, the opposite actually happens. The longer I ignore my anxiety, the worse it gets. It's not something I can simply ignore or get over, as badly as I wish I could. The only way out of my anxiety is to go through it, allowing all the overwhelming emotions and physical manifestations of it to flow through me. Obviously, this takes time. I can't just rush through the things that terrify me. Doing so often just makes the anxieties and fears worse and harder to conquer. Instead, I have to expose myself to what scares me one tiny step at a time. More importantly, I have to admit that I'm having issues to other people. That's the hardest part.
In the case of social anxiety, I began my journey to conquer it by ordering my own food at restaurants. But, even that was its own little ordeal. I first began by simply pointing to what I wanted on the menu. After some time, I felt confident enough to use my words as I pointed to what I wanted. Years passed, and only within the last few years or so have I managed to conquer my fear of ordering food. However, I still struggle if the servers get my order wrong. I would rather just not get the fries I ordered than go up and ask for them. That's a small though still upsetting challenge I face. One small challenge out of numerous.
Again, it's incredibly hard for me to admit this. After all, I'm twenty years old. I'll be twenty one in the spring. Why am I so scared of doing something so trivial as asking for my fries? Why does my heartrate shoot up to 160 beats-per-minute whenever I have to make a two minute phone call? Why is it practically impossible for me to make eye-contact with anyone outside of my little circle of close friends and family? Why does every little thing startle me, or at the very least, grab my attention? Why must I be so watchful and alert all the damn time, and have a plan for pretty much every possible thing my imagination can conjure up?
Anxiety, like all my other medical conditions, is a rather embarrassing thing to live with. People who have never dealt with anxiety, and even those who have, can't understand how it impacts me. I'm too high-functioning and good at hiding my anxiety that people don't notice it. And, on the rare occasion I feel safe enough to be vulnerable with someone about my anxiety, they often disbelieve and/or dismiss me. Because, how could I be so nervous after all I've been through? How can I be so nervous if, on the outside, I seem perfectly normal? I should have nerves of steel, right?
