How social anxiety effects your job

To put it plainly, social anxiety has had a major impact on my ability to work. In the worst cases, people are unable to work at all, in other cases people force their way through each painful day, and for others, anxiety might be limited to specific situations like staff meetings, performance reviews, presentations, etc.

For me, what started out as a bright career path progressing upwards, has plummeted and flat-lined to a level way below my ability and earning potential. I remember the days when I first entered the job force after college. I was full of potential. I was driven and eager to learn. I worked hard and received praise. I was promoted. I was admired and respected. I was recognized as bright and able.

Slowly, as my social anxiety increased, my ability to get through every painful day decreased until finally I quit full-time work and haven't gone back since. It's been four shameful years since I've been able to hold a full-time job. The group staff meetings, one-on-one meetings, presentations, impromptu questions, the overbearing boss, were all too much for me to handle.

Six months after quitting my last full-time job, I tried to hold a part-time job. After about 6 months I quit. It was a small family owned business with way too much interaction for me. Lots of lunches together and invitations for parties and activities outside of work. They wanted us all to be very involved with each other and this brought on a lot of anxiety for me. After many creative excuses for why I couldn't go to things, and people always asking why I couldn't be there, it was time to walk away. It was too much for me.

These days, my part-time, low-level job is all I can do and even now I sometimes feel like I'm hanging on by a thread. In a way I feel like I'm holding my breath - that at any given moment it might be too much for me and one day I'll have no choice but to leave and never go back. But I won't give in and let my negative thinking completely enslave me, so each day I keep going. And somehow I get through the uncomfortable parts of my job. And while I am truly grateful to have the job I do, and the strength to do it, it's hard to feel the judgement and disappointment from my family.

My husband understands it is all I can do at the moment and even with him I feel a sense of shame and guilt that I'm not contributing more (because I know what I should be able to do). And then there's the rest of my family. It's both fortunate and unfortunate that we know our families well enough to know what they're thinking. And deep down in the truest part of me, I know what my family thinks (and who can blame them, with their limited perception?). They think I'm lazy. They think I'm unmotivated. They think I'm okay with barely getting by. And I don't know what is worse - knowing they think things that aren't true or knowing the truth about my social anxiety? I guess I've already answered that question because they have no idea that I'm suffering. And in some weird way I think my mind qualifies what I'm doing in their eyes because growing up I was often told that I didn't try very hard and only did enough to get by. I began to believe the lies; and as I believed them I owned them; and as I owned them it is what I became. So they shouldn't expect much more from me, should they?

So what keeps me going every day? The children I work with. Yes I still feel anxious at our daily staff meetings and yes, I shutter at the thoughts of performance reviews (speaking of which I have one this coming week, gulp), but for me, the children are the reason I can make it.

I love children. Children are healing for me. With children, you get what's real. If they tell you your lipstick is too bright, it probably is. If they tell you you're shouting, you probably are. And because they tell you like it is, you know you'll always get what's real from them. Not the quiet, layered judgement from adults. Children are the most real people on the planet. They are young and pure and haven't bridged the gap between sincerity and judgment.

My prescription for anyone feeling alone, down or unable: spend the day with a child.

And a quick update: the Relief Society President is coming tomorrow morning to talk with me. Of course I've thought of cancelling it about a million times, but each time I remind myself that I can't shut myself off entirely from my ward. Because #1 I really don't want to and #2 because I know I can't - because if I think I can - I will. And then I will be alone, backed into the corner where I entrapped myself; not because it's what I wanted, but because I thought it was necessary.

As for church today? Church is always a test of my strength because it's filled with wild cards. People who could talk to me at any moment. I am always glad I attended, but I'm always exhausted and relieved when it's time to go. I'm hoping that as I go through this therapy that I'll change my negative thoughts about church so I can fully enjoy it and everyone there. Our ward is full of kind, interesting people and I'm on the outside looking in. Hopefully one of these days I'll be inside too.