It's not you it's me: the message our social anxiety sends to others

Thank you again to those of you who have taken a moment to express how this blog has helped you! It strengthens me to know that sharing my thoughts and experiences can help other people who struggle as I do.

This past Sunday at church I had a slam bam moment when I came face to face with my visiting teachers. As you may or may not know, visiting teachers are a HUGE challenge for me. You can read accounts of my nightmarish experiences in a few of my previous posts:

What caused my social anxiety
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
Pushing Forward
Old Habits are Hard to Break

It's still SO awkward for me not to be a visiting teacher because of my anxiety, being in a community of people where EVERYONE ELSE IS. Man, thinking back to my last horrific visit even for a second makes me shudder with humiliation! Aaakk!

But the other awkward side is being visit taught. I asked not to have visiting teachers, but suddenly one day I was on someone's route. And to make an awkward mess even messier, I asked for emails instead of meeting with them. How weird am I? I can't even meet with two ladies in my home? It's mortifying, but less horrifying than meeting with them. I'll take the lesser of two evils I guess.

Visiting teaching in our church is like the holy grail of service. I've lost track of how many times I've heard, "I love visiting teaching! It has blessed my life in so many ways! I have made my best friends through visiting teaching!"

Back in my earlier days, I did make a good friend who had been assigned to be my visiting teacher. It was a great experience. Back at a time when sitting one-on-one with someone didn't wrap itself around my neck and choke me.

So there I stood. Face to face. Eye to eye. With the two sisters who were assigned to be my visiting teachers. They are some of the nicest ladies. They email me every month to check in and talk to me when I see them. And in a normal world, talking together like friends should be fun. It shouldn't be painful.

I choked through the first parts of our conversation and then somehow managed to put a smile on my face and tried to act normal. I tried to envision I was talking to my sister. I didn't need to feel nervous if it was my sister. And surprisingly, it helped just enough to release the choke-hold. But as each second ticked by, I kept mentally checking how I was doing and how much longer I could keep it together. It's hard to enjoy a conversation when all that's running through your mind is, Am I going to freak out? No, you're fine. Am I acting normal? How much longer are they going to keep talking to me??

As our conversation was finally coming to a close (yes!), one of the ladies turned to me and said, "You know, you can always call me. Or come over. Or just hang out with me." And I was reminded again about one of the other hardest parts about my social anxiety. The way it affects other people.

I don't like to hurt other people's feelings and I can't deny the pain I see in her eyes when she tries to reach out to me, but is rejected time and time again. She has asked me to do things with her for years and has expressed her desire to be my friend, but I never accept her invitations. Ever. It appears I don't like her or that I think I'm too good for her, or that I'm totally disinterested. If only she knew the reason behind my behavior. "It's not you, it's me!"

If she only knew the truth. If she only knew that I wish I felt comfortable enough to spend time with her and be her friend. If she only knew that my constant rejections had NOTHING at all to do with her and EVERYTHING to do with me.

I wonder how many other people my mixed messages have hurt? People reach out and invite us to dinner and I turn them down. People invite me to do things and I find an excuse. I stay away from the nicest people at church because I know they'll talk to me and want to know how I am, or even worse - ask me to do something with them. I naturally pull away from people who in my "former non-anxious life", I would have enjoyed spending time with.

It's an onion, this social anxiety. So many layers.

The place In-between

First, I want to say thank you to all of you who have left encouraging comments. Even I feel alone at times, just like you do, so it's nice to be reminded that I'm not alone either. :)

Back in June, one of you left a very kind, heartfelt comment, but deleted it (I'm not sure why). I kept it because it is what helped me to push forward out of the social anxiety relapse I was in.

Here is what she said, because it might offer you just what you need too:

"Heavenly Father loves you so much! He - as well as the Savior - know the thoughts and intents of your heart. The Atonement covers not only the price of repented sin, but also every single pain and heartache imaginable. This helps me so much when I have my SA attacks - to know that there is One who understands me completely, and loves me completely. When I have my days of suffocating SA, where I hate hate hate going to church and having to put on a plastic smile for several hours, and when I come home later and rehash all my imagined social gaffes with my husband, I remind myself that I am not alone. When I feel the discomfort of being in awkward social situations, so much that it causes me physical symptoms, I remind myself that the Savior has suffered everything EVERYTHING so that He can help me too. And when people are quick to judge my character (no, I am not stuck up! Just incredibly, painfully socially fearful), I know that the Savior has felt that hurt, too. I hope that that knowledge helps you, also. 

You may have suffered a relapse, but I have encouraging words for you, ones that have helped me when I have struggled. A LAPSE is falling off the wagon. A RELAPSE is falling off the wagon after getting on again. A COLLAPSE is giving up completely. We all have lapses. And yes, every now and again, we all have relapses. 

But we don't have to make them collapses. :) Even if I suffer a series of relapses of my SA behavior the rest of my life, I will try my best not to collapse. And even if I do collapse, there is always hope. This gospel is one of progression, and the Lord sees us not where we were, but where we are going." 

That encouragement and positive message helped me push through my negativity and get myself to church that next Sunday. I just decided that I needed to commit myself to going and let it become a habit, if that's what needed to happen first, before I felt happy about being there.

It still hasn't been all roses. There have been Sundays I still let my fear get the better of me and I don't go to church. There have been times in class I've been asked to read aloud or go around the room to share and the fear takes its hold and I either talk myself down off the ledge and get through it, or make a fast exit. I do what I can do. And that's how I'm making it.

I've had to redefine who I am, a little bit. I used to be the person who did everything they were asked. I tried not to let anyone down. If a calling was extended, I took it. If an assignment was given, I accepted it. If a volunteer was needed, I offered.

I have come to a point in my life where I recognize my limits and if something's too much, I say no. I know I let people down, and I'm becoming one of those people that can't always be counted on and that makes me really uncomfortable, being a perfectionist and all, but I'm trying to allow myself to be okay with it. And to know that there hopefully will be a day when I can make up for it - and accept more and do more and be more, but for now, this is where I am.

As I've thought about where my mind has been these last couple months, I wasn't quite sure how to define it. It's that place in-between denial and acceptance. What do you call it? Oblivion? I have been trying to block out the fact that I have social anxiety and just detach my brain from everything so I don't have to face it or worry about it. I guess you can call it going to "my happy place", where there is no fear and all is good. I have pushed myself through a few Sundays and home teaching visits that I wanted to run from, but once they were done I could mentally let my guard down and stay in my happy place for a while.

I have a few job related things coming up that just strangle me with fear, so I keep pushing it out of my head. I know it's coming, and the closer it gets, the farther away my happy place goes. I prefer oblivion to facing my real life fears, but I'm still reading Pres. Hinckley's inspiring quote on my mirror every day, to remind me not to just trudge through life but to enjoy it. Here's to joy.