Yes, it really has been that long.
Does it mean I'm cured and this social anxiety blog is now a thing of the past?
Unfortunately, no.
Do I still dread going to church but continue to go anyway? Yes. But I hope the fact that I'm still actively attending church counts for something.
Why did I disappear? I think at some point I found that by writing about my social anxiety, I was focusing too much on it, and it was somehow making it all bigger. So I stopped writing and thought maybe if I did, my social anxiety would silently slip away. But it didn't. I'm sure there's some psychological explanation to all of that.
To go back over the last 10 months and examine all the times I've experienced social anxiety would be silly. Yet even as I write, my brain is scanning the archives.
In a nutshell, I've lived through countless home teaching visits (almost 10). Some a little more anxious than others.
I cancelled a dinner with a nice couple the day of, and pushed off another invitation from another. In one instance it was a little justified, in the other case it's with someone I would love to get to know. But I can't face dinner with random families. Little do they know it's killing me to be that rude and I'm not that kind of person, but honestly, it's too much for me. I try not to make eye contact when I walk by them at church.
The RS president is still on the prowl but has eased off a bit. Maybe it's because I never return her emails. Maybe it's because she finally got a clue? Nah, that might be too optimistic. Isn't there a point when your affection goes unreturned that you finally realize it's not you, it's me? I guess with her, time will tell.
A few big events have happened during the last 10 months. I promise I won't go all 301 days, but here are the highlights, or lowlights. Call it what you will.
#1. I accepted a leadership calling in my ward.
For women with social anxiety in the LDS church, taking a leadership calling can be
devastatingly scary, for lack of a better word. We know what's coming. Meetings. Activities. Friendships. Sharing. Sharing. Did I mention sharing? I quite often try to explain to my husband just how much LDS women share/over-share. I know they mean well (why do I always have to excuse them?), but for me, in my anxious state, it's suffocating. Men don't share. I consider them lucky.
I was asked to serve in an auxiliary leadership position. When the bishopric member asked to meet with me I knew what was coming. And for an instant, I thought about never calling him back because I didn't want to meet with him and I certainly didn't want another calling. Often, my answer is, "I won't ever call him back and then I'll just never go back to church again." But that's not going to happen. So after all the mental scurrying, I met with him.
And it was just as I thought. After he extended the call, I asked for time to think about it, which I never do. All my life I was taught to just accept it. But this time I couldn't. I needed a moment.
My life had been going fairly smoothly. I had a job I enjoyed and could handle. I had safely eluded the RS president. I had secured my sabbatical from visiting teaching. I never attended extra-curricular church activities. I had created a safe space. Now my perimeter was under attack. Could I handle it?
I wanted to say no to the calling. But at the same time, since I teetered on never going to church again (every week), I knew it might be the one thing to save me. An actual reason to go to church instead of relying on my wavering will power, weakening like the calm after a storm.
I decided I would pray about it. I'll admit, my prayers often weren't very deep. I didn't often cry out to the Lord. Sadly, my prayers, although heartfelt, were often a short, bedtime ritual which without, made sleep restless.
I looked up talks from the Ensign online, targeting phrases like, "whom the Lord calls, He qualifies." Because if I was going to accept this calling, with all it's social interactions, I was going to need to know for sure that the Lord would qualify me for the work and somehow suppress my anxiety. Visions of meetings and personal questions and talk of visiting teaching went through my head. What would I say when they asked me who I visit taught? Which so often comes up in mormon womens' conversations.
A talk that stood out to me strongly,
Rise to Your Call by Henry B. Eyring, gave me great hope and assurance that the Lord would stand by me as I served and that I was called for a reason. Through this, other talks I read, prayer and asking my husband for a blessing, I received an answer. The Lord would stand by me if I served. So I said yes. It made a difference knowing I had the Lord's support, not just saying yes because it's what I was supposed to do. I couldn't risk that.
And so far, I'll admit, I'm not immune to moments of stress and anxiety, but I can see that I have received help as I serve. I have been able to do the things I've been called to do. I have been able to attend my meetings. And that, for me, is a milestone. I've still had moments where I needed to walk in the bathroom and breathe or exit stage left for a drink of water during church, or excuse myself from an activity, but for the most part I have persevered. So I will continue to serve. With anxious anticipation.
#2. I have visiting teachers again.
Before you stand up and cheer, let me stop you mid yelp. It's not what it sounds like.
Remember my never ending battle with visiting teaching?
[Just search visiting teaching in the "search this blog" box and you'll get a load of reading material.]
Well, I thought I was in the clear. Months ago after my horrific anxiety attack during a visiting teaching visit, I asked the RS president to take me off the list. I needed a break from teaching or being taught while I dealt with my "anxiety issues".
It worked for a little while but the RS President, not to be defeated, emailed me asking to visit with one of her counselors. To quote, "You've been on her mind a lot lately." Oh great. I don't want to be on someone's mind. Why is she wondering about me? I don't want her to wonder about me! And wasn't I clear the 15th time I told you I needed a break from visits?! Rrrr! Still gets my blood boiling. She didn't get it. And I was feeling attacked. I never wrote her back.
Flash forward to a few weeks ago. The ward announced we were having a visiting teaching conference during Relief Society and all sisters were to come. How awkward would that be for me?! Exit stage left. I suddenly had a previous engagement at another ward. Bu bye.
I'm sure due to the conference, all the visiting teachers came out with a vengeance, excited to get to work. And that's when I got the email. From my new visiting teacher, very eager and excited to visit me. And you'll never guess who her companion was? The RS counselor, who's mind I had been on just a few weeks before. Can you say conspiracy?! Okay drama. But that's what it felt like. I knew I'd been set up. I was her project.
I'm not gonna lie. It ruined my morning. I ranted and raved about how the RS pres clearly didn't get it and how in the bleep did I get put back on the VT list!?! Had I spoken in hieroglyphics?! I said NO. And I thought no meant no. No?
So I closed the email and worried about it all week. What would my response be to her? What did she already know? Did she think I was the RS counselor's project? Did the RS Pres fill her in on my "situation" with all her inaccuracies? She was a very nice lady in my ward. I didn't want her to feel like I didn't like her. I couldn't believe I was faced with this again and each time it felt even more humiliating.
At the end of the week I finally emailed her, after drafting a few different versions. My husband listened as I searched for the right words that would be articulate so as to eliminate any confusion (if that was possible).
I decided the truth was the best option. No too much truth, but not to little as to give her blanks to fill. I came out and told her I was dealing with panic attacks, that I was not comfortable having visits and that she was welcome to email me the message. And the most insightful moment, for me, was in my final sentence. "It's nothing personal against you, it's just personal for me."
So true. For some reason I found great strength in that sentence. It felt empowering.
She wrote back thanking me for my honesty. And although it was humiliating to know that now one more person knew my situation, it was a load off my shoulders.
#3. I accepted a promotion at work
Who Moved My Cheese? A book about dealing with change. Did you read it? I didn't. But I'm sure if I had, I would have found myself in every chapter.
I don't like change. Unless it's good, of course. Even then, I feel like I have a hard time adjusting.
Things in my life were going along fine. I had the whole summer off since I worked for a school and was pursuing a few other things during this time off and loved every minute of it. As I look back, it may just have been one of the best summer's of my life. The freedom to manage my own time, enjoy time with family and pursuing my own interests was a dream. I felt so free.
As my dream summer was coming to a close, my anxiety grew. Work would begin again. What would that first day back be like? What if we had to go around the room to meet new staff? Often it's the anticipation that nearly kills me. Too many what if's. Not enough what is.
I threw around the idea of calling in sick for the first day. Um, no. Show up late? Couldn't do it. Do drugs? hahaha, but no. So I went to the first day back to work and it was completely relaxed. All that worrying had been for nothing.
But just as I was feeling like lucky Lucy, my manager asked me to apply for an assistant manager position. He said I would be really good at it. It paid more. Had more hours. More responsibility.
Everything inside of me screamed "NO! I like things just the way they are! I don't want to change! I don't want more responsibility! Why mess with a good thing? I can handle my job right now and actually enjoy it. You're ruining it!" Okay, so my self-talk is a bit like a toddler's tantrum, but can you blame me? I couldn't face the thought of this change. At least my job was something easy. Something comfortable. I didn't want the rug pulled out from under me.
And so I stewed. And it would have been a mighty good meal for as long as it cooked, but instead, it turned into a big old pot of worry. I emailed my manager and asked him about the position. The one thing that truly haunted my mind? Staff meetings. I had horrific anxiety episodes during previous staff meetings at other jobs and knew I couldn't handle that. He said as far as he knew, staff meetings weren't part of the job.
So with much trepidation, I filled out the application. And secretly hoped they wouldn't even call.
I knew I'd have to step up and lead meetings, train staff, be a spokesperson.
I knew I'd have to step up and be a strong involved leader.
I knew I'd have to step up and do a lot more face to face in general.
And they did call. And I had to interview. It had been a long time since I'd interviewed. I thought my heart might implode inside my chest and then explode all over the panel. But it didn't. I was actually pretty calm, considering. I don't know why I've always been able to pull it off at interviews. It's like I'm having an out of body or something. At the end, I walked out and wondered if I even made sense. But at least I survived.
And then began the nonsensical pleading. "So what if I don't get it?!" I screamed to the universe, "Please don't pick me! I don't even want this!"
I had nightmares. I had periods of panic. I had moments of anger that I had to be doing this anyway.
But I guess the universe knew better, or, maybe Heavenly Father knew better. He knew I could handle it. Because I did get the job. And I have been able to handle it. For the most part. I still have nightmares, lose sleep, and have mini panic attacks when I can't get work out of my head, but I'm hanging on and trying not to slip off the edge I'm standing a bit too close to.
The real kicker? I found out during the interview that my position will have to attend the big staff meetings. I've "gone around the room" in my head a million times. It's enough to stop me in my tracks. Send me screaming out of the room. Quit my job and run away and never come back. I've got to stop thinking about these pending meetings because as I've said, the anticipation is enough to kill me.
Well that's 10 months in a nutshell my friends. I'm sure my brain will unwillingly push through the wreckage and find more to share.
I haven't gone back to my therapy again. It sits in the box gathering dust. Not that I don't think about it. I'm still afraid somewhere in the back of my mind that if I start listening to it again, I'll start focusing on my anxiety again, and it will start to get worse. I know, it doesn't make sense. It's the alcoholic thinking that by attending AA they'll only want to drink more, when it's actually there to help them stay sober.
I think what I've actually done is scale my world down so small that I'm in a safe zone.I avoid the things that cause me too much anxiety, make myself do the things that I can barely handle, and then come home and lock the door. I don't want to mess with quiet. But I know my thinking isn't rational.
The truth is, my world can get bigger. And it can get better. I just have to believe that it can.
