It was 12 o’clock in the morning. I didn’t have to get up early for work today, so I felt like staying up a little later and watching a movie. I’ve yet to set up Netflix on my Wii U, and my computer is a piece of garbage when it comes to loading Netflix videos, so I settled for youtube to see what I could find. I ended up coming across a one hour documentary on Social Anxiety Disorder.
It wasn’t a life changing affair, by any means. I’ve heard of it before, and was more or less aware of the inhibitions surrounding the disorder. But I’d never really considered whether or not I have it.
In all honesty, I really don’t believe I do. I am an extraordinarily adaptable person in social settings, and I’m kicking ass at Starbucks right now with positive customer service feedback, not to mention the feedback from my boss. And, lets face it, to work at Starbucks you have to be a bit of a social butterfly!
But where I’m adaptable under social situations, I also seem to be adaptable in my ability to actually be social. When I leave that store, and approach my apartment, something changes in me. Plans I’d considered with friends and co-workers become obsolete. Confidence dissolves. Smile fades.
Every day I sit in my apartment and ignore texts and phone calls. I blow off friends and I stress about my life and everything that is wrong with it right now. I know that I am sad, but do I have SAD?
My mother thinks I need to talk to a therapist. She thinks I’m depressed. She offers to pay for anything that would need to be paid for, but I just don’t want to. I don’t want to rely on pills to be happy. And even more so, I don’t want to leave the comfort of my apartment to navigate out into the city and try and find where I need to go–something I’ve found to be extremely stressful for me. And no, I don’t have agoraphobia either. Once someone finally manages to dissuade me from my dwelling, I happen to love going out and seeing new places… with someone.
Maybe this just extends from my fear of being alone. Maybe I don’t want people to see that I am all alone. Or maybe not. I honestly don’t know. All I know is that I really have a problem with who I am, and as much as I want a man to accept me for me, I even more so want to accept myself.