Social Anxiety and my youngest sister

You know the old saying, "I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy?" Well, in the case of social anxiety, if I can be totally honest, I actually wouldn't mind seeing some of my worst enemies get a good dose of social anxiety. If I can be honest.

But for my sister? I wouldn't wish it on her in a million, zillion years.

But it happened. My sweet sister, who's in 30's, called me a while back with an all-too-familiar story. And I hung my head and wished I could somehow take it away.

She and I have always shared the same anxiety about "going around the room" and speaking in front of people. We laugh about our fears and the strange predicaments we've found ourselves in because of them. But we are forever grateful we have each other to share, understand, and accept even the worst parts of ourselves.

But for her, on this day, her otherwise "normal" anxiety had reached a new level. It had become much bigger. Much bolder. Much more debilitating.

A class at school had finally pushed her over the edge. Her teacher was a wild card. Totally unpredictable. Totally uncaring. Totally spontaneous. And one who seemed to enjoy putting students on the spot, as if beating them into submission was the only way they would learn. A very dangerous ground for the socially anxious. Unpredictability is like a death sentence.

On this particular day, her fear of being called on was so great, that she finally broke and left early. And is the case with avoidance, she not only felt like a complete failure, but the fear wouldn't leave her. Each day was a test of her will to return to class, but the fear of humiliation was too strong. And with each passing day that she didn't return, the fear only mounted in her absence.

She didn't know how to get through it. She didn't know how to face it. She knew her future career was crumbling out from under her because of this one thing she couldn't control. It was overwhelming darkness and she couldn't see her way through it.

As I listened to her reveal her most troubling, fearful, humiliating and debilitating moments, my heart broke into a million pieces.  The things she shared were as familiar as if I were reading through an old diary, revealing my own confusing, debilitating, world changing episodes of social anxiety. I understood. To my core. In a way that only those of us who have gone through it can understand. And my heart ached for her. Please not her. Why now? She is just at the cusp of a career she has put everything on the line for. Please don't let this stop her. Not like it has stopped me.

I wanted to wish it all away. I wanted to tell her it would all get better. But I knew I couldn't promise that. Social Anxiety isn't something you can just get over or wish away. It's as real as the fear itself. It has to be acknowledged, accepted and faced over and over again. For years. Maybe even a lifetime.

I pulled out everything I knew. Everything I'd learned. Every moment I'd conquered. Every moment I'd failed. And I tried to give her the best advice I could muster. The best helps I could think of. I also recounted a tidbit I learned from the CD therapy series about accepting yourself and your fear instead of fighting against it. I hoped my suffering hadn't been in vain. If I could help her, it was worth every minute of suffering.

I gave her tips (aka: distractions) that have helped me, like bringing a water bottle to drink and hold; sucking on fresh minty tic tacs and taking in deep breaths of refreshing, calming mint. I told her about how saying something out loud in class before presenting (in order to break the ice with yourself and surroundings) had helped me. I told her that no one is really paying attention to you anyway because they really are more worried about themselves. We talked about how holding something in your hand, like a penny or paper clip, or tapping your foot, can help channel the nervous energy into something else.

She went to her school counselor, but received no understanding or even empathy. I would have expected so much more from a counselor.

I believe in the end, she finally emailed her teacher and tried to explain the situation. Fortunately, it allowed her to get through the remaining classes and at least pass.

It reminded me how social anxiety can crush your ability to reach your potential, and instead, allows you to accept only enough to get by.

I hope, looking ahead, that she doesn't have to face this ever again. I hope her path doesn't follow mine, where with each episode the anxiety worsens and one day you wake up and can't go to work anymore or even talk to people face to face.

She is my hero. I think about her when I'm faced with a fearful situation. I think that if she could get through what she did, I can do anything. I thought of her when my home teachers were coming over, and when I had to meet with my Bishop for tithing settlement.

Her strength will now be a source of strength for me.