I did a LOT of socializing over the past week, and maybe it’s not that surprising that I had a panic attack tonight at the thought of going to our neighbours’ house for a visit. After I cried myself into a nap, like a kid after a tantrum, I Googled “Should I socialize?” And found this blog: http://m.psychologytoday.com/blog/quiet-the-power-introverts/201103/socialize-or-not-is-the-question (Psychology Today – To socialize or not? That is the question.) I’ve been formulating a post for quite some time. Eventually I will reveal The Top Pros and Cons of Having a Blog When You Have Social Anxiety; for now, I hope you find the re-blog above to be of interest.
Hi, everyone! Here follows a post written from my couch, where I sit in my pyjamas, paralysed by anxiety – so please forgive the rough patches that are sure to arise from me using my cell phone to compose this entry.
I tend to react rather strongly to the statement, “There’s nothing to be anxious about!” My general response is,
“YES, THERE IS A LOT TO BE ANXIOUS ABOUT! THINGS ARE OBVIOUSLY VERY DIRE AND LIFE-THREATENING! Otherwise I WOULDN’T BE FEELING THIS WAY!”
I’ve recently been encouraged to take a step back and try to acknowledge that there are reasons that I react with panic to certain situations; the anxiety is real, but it is not caused by a true threat. As opposed to panic caused by OH MY GOD A BEAR, A FREAKING BEAR!
In this spirit, I acknowledge that no one is going to die because I have sweaty Latin dance class tomorrow… followed directly by a committee meeting.
A committee meeting that I want to leave early to attend another event, only I have to give my treasurer’s report and an update on our contest entry, only the youth club declined helping us with the video element and I hate giving bad news. And I have to making planning for the theatre and music classes I facilitate later this week, and with typing and reading board meeting minutes for the email sends and cleaning the house because husband is at work while I sit on the couch and whine about feeling anxious and HOW CAN I EAT ANY BACON HE BRINGS HOME WITH ALL THIS GUILT SAUCE?*
In conclusion, everything will be fine. Right? I’m going to put my head under the covers. Maybe eat a sandwich.
*To be clear, my husband does not pour the guilt sauce. My brain does.