Easing your anxiety during the Coronavirus

Hi friends,

This is a crazy time, isn't it? The uncertainty of everything concerning the Coronavirus is really unsettling and is causing major disruptions in our lives, and stirring up a lot of anxiety as well.

For those of us with social anxiety, the social distancing part isn't a problem for us. I know we can joke about it but I certainly don't mean it in an insensitive way. When you are a person who craves being protected from the judgement of other people, being required to stay away from people can actually bring a sense of relief. 

I realized today that, seriousness of this situation aside, we can rest assured that neither the Relief Society president, our ministering sisters, home teachers or bishopric members will just stop by unannounced. :) Whew!

But in all seriousness, we can actually take this time to connect with them from a distance - through texting or email and it will be perfectly acceptable. No socializing required. It can feel so much more comfortable from afar and we can still offer our sincere support. 

As a side note, I, myself, have enjoyed having church at home the last 2 weeks and have felt the spirit really strong in our home (as I have also heard from others). I try to look at it as a special time to connect with those living in our homes and bringing the spirit into our homes in a different but profound way.

I hope you are all doing well! 

For some of us, our anxiety goes beyond just the social part. I've shared with you that I started having panic attacks and a much broader range of daily anxiety that has greatly affected my life.

I have been seeing a counselor every couple of weeks and am still following the positive helps I mentioned in my last post and those under Helpful Resources. The podcast really helps a lot. She has such good practical and actionable recommendations. I highly recommend it.

I have also tried to incorporate more church related sources into my daily routine - right now I'm listening to Sis. Wendy Watson Nelson's book on CD: Covenant Keepers. I find it helpful to bring in as much positivity as I can, especially right now when there is a lot of negativity and worry swirling around.

It's important to get out of our heads when we feel our anxiety spinning. If you find yourself really worrying and obsessing about the Coronavirus, take a look at how much information you're taking in and re-evaluate it. Staying informed is important but an overabundance of information or focus on it may only lead to an increase in worry and anxiety without helping us at all. 

Focus on what you CAN do - like eating healthy, following the guidelines from the CDC and government and sticking to positive, healthy routines, etc. and then decide which reputable sources you'll follow and keep it to a minimum to stay informed. It's not necessary to keep reading about every detail and statistic about the Coronavirus or you may get overwhelmed with worry. 

Get outside. Exercise. Meditate. Listen to music. Sing. Dance. There are really so many things we can do to help break the cycle of worry. I recently discovered that something as simple as telling myself to "change the channel" in my head and imagining myself clicking the nob to another channel (like an old tv dial nob from one of the tv's I grew up with) really helps me break the cycle of negative or obsessive thinking. Nope. Program's over. It totally works for me.

How are you doing through all of this? I hope you are healthy and able to keep yourself in a positive place in your mind. Let me know how you're doing and if you have any helpful tips to share on how you're combating your stress and anxiety. As always, thinking of you and sending happy, healthy prayers your way!

Social anxiety leads, I follow

I'm always drawn back to blogging when my social anxiety begins to bubble over. The thoughts that overwhelm my mind need somewhere to go or they'll just keep swirling around in my head, leaving me 1 bus stop away from crazytown.

The truth is, I thought I'd gotten better. But it's probably because I've mastered the art of avoidance instead of actually conquering social anxiety. It's been pretty peaceful for the most part. I've narrowed down what I'll do at church to a minimum to avoid too much distress. I've narrowed down what kind of risks I'll take at work to keep things as predictable as possible. I've narrowed down my social circle and social activities to stay as small as possible for maximum peace of mind. But the reality is, that the world is much bigger than my narrow, small place, and it has begun to creep in again and I feel myself starting to get rattled.

So What's the Big Deal?
In a nutshell, I'm freaking out because we have to move and that means starting in a new ward (possibly in my older sister's ward - aaahhhh!) AND I feel pressure to get another job because we can't make ends meet. It's keeping me up at night, people!!

New Apartment/New Ward
So many things stress me about about this. How can we move (everything's astronomically expensive)? Where is "the right place"? Is it safe and quiet? And of course, starting a new ward = Choke Hold! I almost can't breathe when I think of welcome talks, new people, or even worse - people I know that I didn't know were in that ward!, new callings, visiting teaching, new home teachers.....do I tell them I'm a freak and don't want visiting teachers?...yadda yadda yadda...you know the drill. It's enough to put me in the hospital.

Sister's Ward
And if all that panic wasn't enough, I keep feeling drawn to live in an area that would put us in my older sister's ward. The older sister who would squish me like a bug. She is everything I'm not - outgoing and very involved - heading up committees, volunteering for things, pick me, pick me, pick me! I kind of go into a pre-coma-like-state thinking of what it would be like in her ward. She has no idea how withdrawn I've become as far as church is concerned. In and Out. That's my motto. I just imagine all the things she'd volunteer me for, or ask me to participate in, or embarrass me in Sunday School or Relief Society, or make fun of me after I give my welcome talk (she has a habit of doing that "all in fun"). Thinking of being in her ward shreds what little sense of self I have left, into a pile of dust. Poof.

And then on the other hand, the little angel on my shoulder says if the Lord is directing us there, is it because my sister could bring me back from the dead (so to speak), and her "over-activity" will actually draw me out of my stupor and I'll finally feel involved, part of a ward family, and happy about being at church??......?? ......?? hmmmmm it's a stretch Charlie Brown. Is being in her ward really what the Lord wants us to do? Really? No, really????

I told my husband yesterday that this whole process of trying to decipher what the Lord's telling us, as we drive from apartment to apartment and struggle to know the right area to live in, feels a lot like playing the hot-cold game. You feel yourself getting warmer and it feels like it might be the right area and then it gets colder so you turn another direction and begin looking as it gets warmer, warmer and then colder, colder. Ugh! It's messing with my head!

The Job
The next big thing chipping away at my psyche is getting another job. The truth is, the thoughts of getting a new job where I have to learn a new skill and interact with new people every day for 8 hours is about as stressful for me as going in for brain surgery.

For a very long time I've felt a lot of guilt about not getting a better job so we could afford a home, etc. since my husband hasn't finished his eduction or gotten a job that can support us.  I'm a very educated woman without the emotional ability to work at a job that pays what I'm worth. It makes me sick. It makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel awful that my family and husband don't understand what holds me back and probably just see me as lazy. It makes me angry that the financial burden falls on my shoulders since my husband hasn't been able to provide adequately.

When I think of getting a new job at a higher level of expectation and pay, I think back to all the horrible moments at other jobs that almost broke me. All the jobs I quit because I couldn't handle it after so long. I don't think I can do it again. It's like a protective voice is shouting, "Oh no, I won't fall for that again!" Social anxiety continues to stifle my potential, my abilities, and keeps me in safe jobs instead of successful ones. There is no money in that. Just pennies, want and guilt. I feel so trapped and debilitated.

Is Hoping Enough?
I feel like my life is out of my control. Social anxiety controls me and everything I do. It holds me back in so many ways I've lost count. I'm not sure what to do at this point. Push myself into things that I hope won't break me? Hoping doesn't make it so. Hoping that by changing my circumstances and pushing myself that I suddenly won't have social anxiety? That doesn't make a lot of sense. Truthfully, I just don't have the confidence that it wouldn't be as bad or worse as other bad moments have been. I learn from my mistakes and protect myself from them happening again. Why should things suddenly be different?

Sometimes I daydream, that in a new place I could just start over and be whoever I wanted to be. I could act like I was a friendly, outgoing person who attended all the activities and fake my way through it like an actress on stage. But I wonder how long, realistically, that would last before I withdrew back into myself?

I wish I could snap my fingers and be a different person. To feel unafraid for one small moment.

I'm not sure what will happen in the coming weeks, but we'll just keep moving forward and seek the Lord in all of our decisions. Even if I don't trust myself sometimes, at least I trust Him.

Why I eat chips on Sunday

I just got home from church. Yes, I made it today. (loud cheering)

But I'm not gonna lie. I sped walked to the car (the door didn't have time to hit me on the way out) and the whole drive home all I could think about was what I got to eat when I got home. Getting there and surviving a whole 3 hours at church?! This girl gets a reward! It's so sad. They also call it e m o t i o n a l  e a t i n g. :|

But man, why is it so painful every week?! Aaahhhkkk!! I'm trying to do what's right and hope that it will get better and sometimes it does (like I mentioned after attending the temple), but some weeks are very difficult and the road ahead seems very long.

It's like a job I can't quit.
That sounds so wrong, but it's how I feel.

A word that comes to mind is torturous. Going to church really is weekly mental torture for people like me with social anxiety who don't like to share, who don't like to read aloud, who don't like to get up in front of people, who don't like to contribute to discussions, who don't like to socialize, who don't like working in groups...it's all the things we fear.

I love feeling the spirit of God fill and touch my heart. It's not the gospel that's difficult. It lifts me up and brings me such joy. I love sitting through sacrament meeting and feeling the spirit. I love having moments where I gain new insight and inspiration. In sacrament meeting there is no fear, no worry, only peace. I can soak up all the goodness of what's around me instead of wondering if I'll be called on, talked to or have to sit in a circle to share. It is the lack of fear that allows me to just be and it feels so good.

But as sacrament meeting comes to a close, the fear engages and I know I have 2 more difficult hours ahead. How I wish I could simply be a fly on the wall to feel God's spirit and love, and continue learning the beautiful things of the gospel...while remaining unseen and unnoticed.

I know other people have challenges that are probably much more difficult in other ways than I do, but this really is hard. I see my life ahead with these same feelings every day and it's hard to face. It makes me want to curl up in a ball. How I wish the Lord would take this difficulty from me. It has changed me so much. I feel like I've lost much of who I am because of it. I look back in time and almost don't recognize the bubbly, enthusiastic person I once was. Now I just try to keep to myself so no one breaks into my safe zone.

And that, my friends, is why I eat chips on Sunday. Or ice cream. Or cake. Or anything I can to reward myself for making it one more Sunday.

Now please pass the Doritos, we have home teachers coming in 15 minutes.

The Power of the Temple against Social Anxiety

I hope you all survived the holidays...you know what I mean, socializing, parties, and more parties. Did I mention parties?
"I want to stop by and drop off a gift for you"
"Are you coming to the work party?"
"Are you coming to the ward party?"
"Are you coming to the relief society party?"
No, no, no and no.

Luckily I made it through and hope you did too!

Before I jump into how the temple has helped me with my social anxiety, I just want to say to all my readers, whether reading for yourselves or to help you understand the ones you love, that I thank you for your heart-felt comments. It warms my heart to know that by sharing my story I have helped someone else and I'm grateful for you and want you to know I have a special place in my heart for my readers and have such hopes for your success to conquer social anxiety and be happy.

With that said, let me share with you something huge I found that helped me rise above my fears and constant cycle of struggling to go to church: Going to the temple.

Now before you revolt and say, "Go to the temple? Are you kidding me I can barely get myself to church!" Please stay with me because believe me, I GET IT! You don't even want to know how hard it was for me to go to the temple in the first place.

A couple of months ago, I felt like my husband and I should go to the temple (evidently I was not in one of my weaker SA states). We committed on a day to go and I was totally gung-ho about it. I knew it was something we should have been doing consistently, but I'll admit, it also was a big source of anxiety for me that I tried just to block out.

Do to the sacred nature of the temple, I won't go into details, but participating in the ordinances there means you are actively involved and participating and therefore, exposing yourself to possible episodes of anxiety because you are out participating and not sitting at home.

I was all set to go. As the day grew closer I began giving myself pep talks. And then the day came. But as my husband began to get dressed in his Sunday best, it all went downhill. I had a major melt down and told him I didn't think I could go.

Luckily, my husband is as sweet and kind as they come, and said we didn't have to go if it was making me feel this anxious. Inside the battle raged. I knew I needed to go and I had to put my faith in Heavenly Father that if I did this good thing that He would help me get through it.

So we went. And He did.


Excerpt from Come to the Temple (an official church publication):

The temple endowment ordinances enrich in three ways: (a) The one receiving the ordinance is given power from God. “Recipients are endowed with power from on high.” (b) A recipient is also endowed with information and knowledge. “They receive an education relative to the Lord’s purposes and plans.”  (c) When sealed at the altar a person is the recipient of glorious blessings, powers, and honors as part of his or her endowment.

We have been taught that we can receive power from on high if we attend the temple, and if anyone needed power, I did. Power to overcome. Power to persevere. Power not to be afraid. And I received it.

By attending the temple I was reminded why I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I was reminded about the love of the gospel. I was reminded why I live the way I live and commit to the things I do. I was reminded about all the good and beautiful things about this church of which I am part. I was reminded about my commitments, covenants and promises and the blessings I am promised if I keep them. And I felt good.

And the next day was Sunday. And as if by magic, I didn't have ANY thoughts of not going to church. What?? I know, believe me, I was just as surprised as you are. I felt powerful. I felt connected and committed in a way I hadn't in a very long time. Thoughts of not going to church were non-existent and I went to church and felt myself begin to get stronger.

And not only do I believe that going to the temple helped me see going to church in a whole different light and take the struggle with going/not-going away, it also helped me in other areas of my life like going to work. Meetings didn't seem as anxiety-producing. Other situations that would have made me want to run and hide didn't affect me as much. I had received the promised power and I couldn't deny it.

As with anything that is connected to receive power, one must continue to "conduct" by going to the temple. In time I've noticed that doubts have begun to creep in again and not going to church once again "becomes an option". I know it's time to go back to the temple and to keep going so my power doesn't have time to fade.

It's miraculous. I hope you find the strength to go to the temple, despite how anxious you might be about it because you will receive power, as is promised. And the wonderful thing about going is that you are not only helping yourself, but others who can't do the work for themselves. It doesn't get better than that!

"So come to the temple - come and claim your blessings." Come to the Temple, Preparing to Enter the Holy Temple, (2002), 1–37

Exceeded my anxiety limit for the week

I'll put it out there.

I didn't go to church Sunday.
Reason: Exceeded weekly anxiety limit

Do you ever have those weeks where you just feel emotionally depleted and if you have one more social encounter, you might snap? That's me right now. Last week was one of those weeks.

Each anxiety producing situation I go through doesn't build me up for the next one, it slowly chips away at my reserves, until they're empty.

In addition to the new level of social interaction I'm expected to do at work, I also had a big church meeting last week where I was in charge of something (i.e. all eyes on me).

The church meeting was the most stressful and topped the charts on my anxiety meter. I had to excuse myself from the group a couple of times and go to the bathroom, all the while telling myself over and over again to pull it together, that I would be fine.

Back in the meeting, I tried to assess over and over again whether I had reached the safe zone where they wouldn't call on me again...or would all eyes suddenly turn on me? This anticipation and worry all but shot my nerves through the roof. I thought I was going to crack. Despite feeling nauseous a few times, I got through it, but at the end I was running on fumes.

To round off the week we had a big family gathering the next day. Social gatherings, period, deplete me. Even around my family. No matter who I'm with, I still don't like to be the center of attention and at big family events there is a lot of interaction and talking and sharing. Some days it's not a big deal, but other times (especially after a major social-anxiety-producing-event like the day before) it's too much. I felt like I was still trying to coax myself down from the ceiling and was not ready to jump into social mode again. But it was time, nonetheless.

Flash forward to Sunday.
Images of smiles, hellos, my calling, awkward breaks between classes, sitting through relief society, new home teachers after church...I just couldn't do it. I needed a break so I could breathe. So I took one.

I always feel bad when I reach this point because the look on my husband's face is always one of mixed understanding and disappointment. His dad never went to church and I know that was hard for him. I don't want to disappoint him in the same way. I do try to go as many Sundays in a row as I can, but sometimes I need a breather.

I've been reading one of my "favorite" social anxiety books again (if you can really call it that). Fear is No Longer my Reality, by Jamie Blyth. Like I said several years ago when I first read it, it is like I'm reading my own story. His experiences mirror my own in a way that gives me comfort and hope, to know I'm not alone, and that someone out there totally gets it.

Here is an excerpt that describes his dreaded experience going to a friend's house for dinner:

The Cheffs are an Italian family that treats people with warmth and respect and always forces a good meal on you. Boy, could they cook. So when they insisted I come over for dinner and my stories and excuses fizzled, I trudged those hundred yards slowly, knowing this was going to be different from all those other dinners. It would have been less insulting if I shaved their dog bald than if I turned down a meal from them.

I didn't notice the stars or the moon or the snow covering the earth. My mind focused on one thing: fear. They greeted me with hugs and kisses and kindness, taking my coat and immediately offering me cookies and coffee. I produced a big fake smile and said it was good to see them.

"You look great!" Dr. Cheff said. "Miami must be treating you well...but I bet they don't make pasta there like we do."

The hollow laugh came out forced. Thirty seconds down. I tried not to stare at the clock to figure out how long I'd have to make it before dinner would be over.

We sat around the table and I quickly became the center of attention. I hadn't been to a dinner table aside from my family's in months. In fact, I had quit eating in public altogether at college, always taking meals back to my room.

I found myself squirming in my chair, coughing, gasping to form words. Everyone was looking at me. They could see how crazed I felt on the inside!

"I'm not going to make it. I've gotta get the heck out of here," I thought. "There's no escape! I'm going to be here at least another hour. I can't hold up."

I was right...I couldn't. The panic attack came on at full force. My old friend Dr. Cheff now intimidated me. It was as if his eyes burned right into me and could see all the weakness inside. I never noticed his intense stare before; his eye contact now made me physically uncomfortable. It seemed that the more calm and poised the people around me were, the more uncomfortable I became - the contrast between them and me just added to my anxiety. Dr. Cheff was the model of composure.

"Make an excuse," I thought. "Get our of here."

"Come on, Jamie," Dr. Cheff said. "Tell us one of your good stories. What's been going on at school?"

"I just study a lot," I said.

"I've always told you this. Once you put your mind to something, there is nothing that stops you."

He was reaching out to me, trying to praise me and build me up, but I could think of nothing but how pathetic I was. The more I tried to get hold of myself, the more unraveled I became. My face went red-hot. My eyes darted spastically around the room as I tried hard to slam the brakes on my panic. Certainly, they could hear my voice shaking and cracking as words tumbled out.

I didn't know what would come out of my mouth next, and I had already developed a stutter and slur to my speech that would last for a few years. The more self-conscious I was about how my voice sounded, the more choked up I became, and words just refused to come out naturally anymore. I had to force them out one by one, calculated, and they somehow got mangled between my throat and my mouth.

My heart shattered as I had to escape from this loving family who just wanted to see the Jamie they knew - the laughing kid on the back of Joe's sled. I just wasn't him anymore, and I didn't have the strength to pretend that I was.

I told them I wasn't feeling well and that I had to go. On the way home, I didn't even notice the bone-chilling winter air. I was scared of what I had become and how far I had fallen. Was there any way to climb back up from here? Back in my room, I disappeared in my bed, once again finding comfort in the darkness.
                           -pg. 55-58 Fear is No Longer my Reality, Jamie Blyth

This book was just what I needed when I found it, and still gives me comfort today. Who else better understands what you're going through, than someone who's gone through it themselves? Look for it in your local library and check it out. Believe me. He gets it. You'll feel better.

So the weekend is over and the week has begun.
Wishing all of us a good week with low anxiety. :)

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 truth

The truth is, I only went to sacrament meeting today. 
We almost didn't go at all. I was even in my dress when my husband teased me about taking the day off. My eyes brightened. My mood lifted. Really? Can we really skip today? Oh please?? But no, he had to go for his calling. [Don't tease me like that. It's like taunting a ravenous lion with a plastic steak.] So we compromised and decided we'd at least go to sacrament meeting. (I'm such a bad influence)

I could have pulled it together and stayed for all the meetings, I mean I was already sitting in the pew for heaven sakes, and I knew I was just letting myself down by not staying, but the thought of being there for all of the drudgery was too much. At least I was going for sacrament meeting. It had been a while and I knew I needed to go.

The truth is, I had only gone to church two times last month. 
One week was a skip day, the other I was out of town. To be honest, it was nice to have a breather, but it's always so much harder to come back. I see today as taking a few baby steps by going to one meeting, even though I should have stayed for it all. I've just succeeded in making next week all the harder.

The truth is, I wish I was someone else sometimes.
Doesn't it seem easier to be someone else? I know it doesn't make sense because we all have our own set of problems to deal with (and many people have it much worse), but I wished I was someone else today.

I wished I was someone who loved coming to church. I longed to be comfortable there and to look around the room and see some of my best friends. I wished I could be one of the strong women who stood up and testified that she loved the Lord, loved our ward and loved coming to church. I wished I didn't feel so disconnected sitting in a room full of amazing people, while wishing I was safe on my couch at home. I wished I didn't worry about my home teachers approaching us for a visit and trying to avoid them every Sunday. I wish every Sunday I didn't count down the minutes until I could leave and check "going to church" off my list.

But there was more. As I looked out over the congregation, I saw happy husbands and wives with lively little children. I always imagined we would have lots of kids snuggled around us, surrounded by big bags of coloring books, crayons, sippy cups and tupperware filled with cheerios and fish crackers. I couldn't wait for the day I got to take my baby out of a meeting. What a great excuse! "I'm sorry, I can't come to relief society, I have to feed the baby".

But since we weren't able to have kids, not only will I never get to use that excuse (drat!), every Sunday, our empty bench is a painful reminder of our barren nest. Today, as I watched one of the beautiful mothers with the long chestnut hair, bounce her pink cheeked little girl out to the mother's room, I wished I was her.

And that is the truth for today.

Social Anxiety and Social Exclusion among LDS women

Every Sunday it's like watching a flurry of butterflies, those social women who frolic across the flowered fields of church halls and classrooms, chatting with one woman, then another, then another, recounting the week's events, sharing stories and making plans, until they have graced their presence on almost every flower. Except me.

Social Anxiety stops you from going to church. It stops you from attending activities. It stops you from making friends. It stops you from socializing with the other women in the ward. It's no wonder that those with social anxiety also feel completely excluded among the other women. And it's hard.

A little while ago, I received this comment from one of my readers:

I, too, struggle with social anxiety and struggle with some of the same aspects of church that you do. Thank you for sharing your experiences and wisdom.

However, I also struggle with a side effect of SA that I do not find addressed on any of the websites or blogs. This is social exclusion in the LDS church and feeling as thought I do not fit in with the women. Knowing that the women at church are great friends and do things socially outside of church but I am not included is very painful. It adds to my feelings of rejection and compound my social anxieties. It makes church attendance very difficult. 

Just this Sunday the RS lesson was on sisterhood and unity. It was nice and cozy and safe. However, how about a real discussion about why we need a lesson on unity in the first place? How about some emotional honesty about what we are doing or not doing? Unfortunately, I left RS feeling worse. 

Do you have any thoughts or advice?

My response to her:

I, too, have felt the same feelings of social exclusion you are talking about. It is difficult every Sunday to see friends chat away, while I sit there feeling stupid. I feel like I'm always on the outside looking in. I know that if I were to attend activities or extend myself to talk to people, I also would make friends, but social anxiety makes it very difficult. In some ways it's like a double-edged sword - if people talk to me or invite me to things, it makes me uncomfortable and I will most likely turn them down, but at least it makes me feel included.  On the other hand, if people don't talk to me and kind of disregard me, I feel alone and excluded.

I understand what you're saying about your lesson on sisterhood and unity. People who are surrounded by friends, think unity in RS is fine and dandy. But what about the people who don't have friends and don't feel included? It's like the one's who need the lesson don't quite get it, and the one's who don't, just feel worse after it.

If you're in a ward where no one reaches out beyond their own bubble of friends, it can be very easy to feel excluded. I've felt differently in different wards. Some groups are much more likely to reach out to everyone, where other wards have cliques and keep to their own friends. 

If I can offer one piece of advice that has helped me, I hope it might do the same for you.  Sometimes all it takes is one person. One person to make you feel important. One person to make you feel included. One person to go to an activity with, to feel like you aren't alone. 

Is there 1 person, maybe someone new, or someone who feels left-out, that you could reach out to so you're both not alone? I have found in the past that when I have gone out of my way to talk to someone new, or someone who's sitting alone, no matter how difficult it is, that I end up feeling better. In turning it around so it's not about me, it's about them, reaching out to make sure someone else feels included, makes me feel included too.

Another suggestion that may or may not be something you're interested in doing, is taking a walk with someone. In my ward there are people who like to take walks together. I feel much more comfortable walking and talking with someone, than having a one-on-one sit down conversation with someone. It's a casual way to get to know people and nice to get some exercise in. It's not always easy to ask to be included, but if you do and go even once, you might find that it's a great fit for you.

Just know, dear friend, that I am on your side. I struggle just like you do. I know how it feels. I know how difficult it is. I'm pushing my way through all of this too. I'd love to keep up on how you're doing and hope that something I've said has helped you. 

Have you ever felt as this reader feels?
As I have also felt 99.9% of all Sundays?

As I said in my response, some wards are much better at making people feel included than other wards. The bottom line, is that it is much more painful to be excluded, than to choose not to be included. 

I'm very sorry for those of you who attend wards that are cliquish, exclude, and/or stick to their own circles. I've been in such wards and it can be very hurtful, especially when going to church itself is already difficult.

The ward I attend is diverse and pretty friendly, as wards go. There are many people who try to make others feel included. I have been invited to activities. I have been invited to dinner. I have been invited to attend baby showers, and other events. But I have always declined.

I guess the way I deal with the issue of exclusion (or don't deal with it) is to block it out. I put up a high, sturdy wall that not even the strongest can climb. I block out that social connection so I won't care. I won't care that everyone has friends in the ward but me, that they all get together during the week, that they share strong friendships, that they have dinner groups together and date nights as couples and reading groups and share experiences and funny stories with each other.

If I start to care, it would be painful to know how separated I really am from all of them. But if I take that wall down to be included, it is dangerous territory for me. It means I'll have to start talking and sharing and attending...and in the end I know myself. I'll start worrying, avoiding, cancelling and begin to build my wall back up again as they look at me with confusion.

So I put up my wall and try to distract myself, and hide in the bathroom while the butterflies frolic because I seem to be a better observer than a participant.

From the outside looking in, it's not that I long to be a butterfly, I long to feel as the butterflies feel. To feel as free and fun and joyful as they look, without a care in the world as they flutter along, chatting, planning, and giggling with the other butterflies.

Maybe one day I'll join them, but for now, I'm just a flower.

My Offering: turning social anxiety into a gift

Today is Monday. So you know what yesterday was.

As I sat in sacrament meeting yesterday, I wondered if going to church was as painful for anyone else as it was for me? I had to be there. I needed to be there. So I was. But making myself go was exactly the right term to use. It wasn't because I liked it. I'd had 3 weeks of avoidance (I had been sick for 2 of the 3 weeks and took an extra Sunday off when my husband was sick. Of course I did). Painful as it was, it was time to return.

I don't mind Sacrament Meeting. I'm safe there. If you time it just right, no one has to talk to you before it starts, and it's clear sailing through the meeting...until it gets to the end.  At that point I know what's next and have to take a deep breath before I go on to phase 2. Sunday School.

Sunday School isn't bad, as long as the teacher doesn't randomly call on people. I try to feel comfortable in Sunday School, but I'm really not. Especially the waiting period. Oh the agony! The period of time between each class is enough to send me running to the car. Get on with it already!  I mean who needs 10-15 minutes in-between meetings? Just get in and get it started already! I call it  D e a d  A i r. A bunch of wasted time filled with flighty classroom chatter and nonsense until the meeting finally starts. It's the most uncomfortable part of each class for me. It's like being at an singles activity without any friends, except there's no snack table to eat your feelings.

But I made it through Sunday School.
Now on to phase 3.
Hang on, we're almost outa here!

I have a calling in Relief Society where I have to be in front of people. I dread it every single week. It makes it that much harder to be at church every Sunday, knowing it's coming.

As I prepared for my calling this past week, I also thought about Easter. It's just a week away. Easter always brings to mind the greatest of all gifts that has been given to us from our Savior. He gave His life for each of us. How does one show gratitude for such a gift? How could it ever be repaid?

And then it hit me. I do have a gift I can give my Savior, to show Him how grateful I am for all that He has done for me. And maybe it's only a gift that He and I understand, but it is a sincere gift, truly from the heart of me.

Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ know how incredibly hard it is for me to go to church. They know how hard it is for me to do my calling. But as I continue to go to church anyway and continue to fulfill my calling anyway, despite my great difficulties, that can be my gift to the Lord. That can be My Offering. Even if it is the hardest thing I do every week, I will do it for them. Because I love them and owe them everything.

And as this was impressed upon my mind, it changed my perspective. It wasn't just about me anymore, it was about them. And I would be willing to do it for them, no matter how difficult it was for me.

Say yes to drugs?

I've been wondering about drugs lately. No, I'm not talking about "taking drugs" in a creepy way, although I have heard that drinking will take the anxious edge off. And I'm not gonna lie, I've daydreamed about what it would be like to take a quick drink to calm my nerves, but only for a millisecond. And no, don't worry, it's only a daydream. One that I need to quit innocently entertaining.

I'm talking about prescription drugs for social anxiety.

As I was driving home from work yesterday, after a long day of trying to figure out my new role at work, an annoying co-worker, mean customer, and worrying about upcoming events, I felt the heaviness of the day. And of course, the heaviness of my life, which never seems to leave me. I couldn't help but wonder if some of it was from writing about my social anxiety again. Did writing about it stir up old feelings that were fine just where they were? Whatever the reason, in that moment I wondered if all of this would feel lighter if I were taking something prescribed for social anxiety?

I mentioned in a previous post that I had tried medication, but it had side-effects, the bedroom type if you know what I mean, and I didn't want to deal with that. I've been told there are other medications that might help with anxiety, without the same side-effects, but I'm afraid of trying them without being monitored by a physician. Let's just say I know someone who can get me some. And it's not a drug dealer.

Would a drug help balance my imbalance? Is it worth the side-effects?

Something to ponder.

Social Anxiety Isn't Your Fault

A major lesson learned, as I thoughtfully listened to Dr. Richards' voice guiding me along my path to recovery, is that social anxiety isn't my fault. And it isn't yours either.

Now before you jump to conclusions and think this is about playing the blame game, read on. It is actually not about placing blame, as much as it is taking the blame off of ourselves, and putting it outside ourselves where it belongs.

Think of it this way: none of us were born thinking the worst of ourselves. We weren't born with low self-esteem. We weren't born thinking we weren't good enough. We weren't born thinking we were less than perfect beings. We heard it and learned it from other people. And as we learned it, we began to believe it. And as we came to believe it, we owned it. And through our ownership of it, it is what we became.

To realize social anxiety really isn't my fault gave me a sense of relief, self-acceptance and hope. I had never thought of it in that way, but it rang true with me and finally began making sense.

And although we may recognize one or more major figures in our lives that contributed to our having social anxiety and the depression that comes with it (the two go hand in hand you know; but that is for another post) it doesn't mean we need to focus on blame, which just fuels anger and resentment.

We are on a quest to heal. If we stay in a place of blame, we will only stay in a place of blame and why focus on something we can't change?

I didn't ask for social anxiety.

I didn't choose to have social anxiety.

But what I can ask for is help to overcome it.

And what I choose, is to be whole again.