Fear them, they will come

You know the quote from that movie, Field of Dreams, with Kevin Costner, "Build it, they will come"?  Well, I have a modification for that, "Fear them, they will come." i.e. If there is someone you're trying to avoid, you will slam right into them. It's true. It happens to me every time.

I can't deny that I have a long list of "who to avoid" running through my head at any given time...but I'm finding that it's almost a silent beacon of attraction. The more I think, "I don't want to see them" the more often I see them.

Exhibit A
Several years ago, I had a visiting teacher who was much too eager. She wanted to visit with me all the time, wanted to stay and talk for hours, wanted me to go to activities with her, wanted me to share my feelings with her. Um, no. Needless to say, she quickly became someone I tried to avoid at all cost.

And it just so happened, the more I tried to avoid her, the more I ended up bumping into her. Seriously. Even when I tried to plan an exit strategy, she would appear out of nowhere with her cheesy grin staring back at me!  Aaaah! Where did you come from?!

Exhibit B
A few weeks ago I walked into a crowded post office, only to find the previous RS president (who I still try vehemently to avoid), directly in front of me in a very long line of patrons. Oh crap. No turning back. Long line. Lots of time for conversation.

Exhibit C
A few weeks later I went to the grocery store. The current RS president had been trying to get a hold of me to talk, so (as psycho as it sounds), I planned my grocery trip specifically at an odd time so I wouldn't have a chance of running into her. I'm sure you can guess who I ran right into in isle 5? Are. You. Kidding. Me?! I couldn't have planned that meeting any better if I tried.

So maybe it all comes down to this. Ever heard of something called The Law of Attraction? Simply put, The Law of Attraction states that we attract into our lives whatever we think about. Dominant thoughts will produce results.

The more I think, I don't want to see "Tina" (no offense Tina, I'm using a fake name), the more times I think about Tina and the more often I'll run into Tina. I guess my brain is leaving the part out about "don't want to" and just hears "see Tina".

Dominant thoughts produce results in the same way our negative thinking creates our anxiety. It all makes sense.

Time to focus on what I WANT, instead of what I DON'T WANT (or who I don't want to see). And see what happens.

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.

When's my next Sunday off?

Yesterday I made it through another Sunday of church. Breathe in...and release.

Saturday I found myself getting anxious and wanting to eat everything in the house. I stopped and wondered what feelings I was eating? Why was I whirling around in a panic? And then I thought about what tomorrow was, Sunday, and my chest tightened.  I tested my theory by playing a game in my head, "What if I didn't have to go to church tomorrow?" I immediately relaxed. Hypothesis proven.

I try not to get the Saturday grumps knowing Sunday is the next day, but I find it difficult. I can't help but sing my revised rendition of a well-known primary song, "Saturday is a special day, it's the day that we start dreading Sunday." I'm so bad.

Saturday is the first day off from a long week at work. It should be a day of freedom, relaxation, a day to prepare for the coming week, a day for at least a little fun. And I find that I stew it all away sometimes worrying about what the next day is. [Mental note: I've got to work on that. Saturday: live in the moment.] A woman commented in Relief Society yesterday that she "loves coming to church." I sat there and wondered what that felt like? I hadn't felt it in a very long time. Had I ever? Hmm.

Last week was spring break for us, which meant I had some time off from my job. Today is the first day back. My mom and I were talking about how easy it is to wish days and even weeks away, looking ahead to the next break instead of just enjoying each day. I had to laugh, because I knew I couldn't help but peek at the calendar to see when my next day off would be.

It reminded me of our "break from church" last week for General Conference. Sigh. I love those Sundays. But I found myself also wondering when the next break from church would be? Lets see, there are 2 stake conferences during the year and 2 general conferences...anything else? Please?! Eeeek! How many torturous Sunday's would there be until the next "break"? I began to panic and pushed it out of my mind. I had to hold on to my new way of thinking - to go to church for Them. Obedience doesn't have a timeline. It is a lifelong commitment of doing what is right.

Conference was not only a nice break from the anxieties of going to church, it was also uplifting.  There were several talks that struck a chord with me. I recall one speaker in particular, who spoke of receiving power when we serve. It confirmed what I knew to be true, because it had happened to me. I plan on going back and listening to or reading the talks again so I can write down motivational quotes or thoughts.

I still felt really awkward at church. I walked, more like rushed, down the hall to avoid having conversations with people, I still avoided eye contact with certain people, I still used the bathroom more times than a girl should in a 2-hour period, but I survived.

I even had a mini panic attack while doing my calling in front of people. Panicked thoughts flooded my head, "I'm going to throw up! I'm going to pass out! I've got to run out of here and never come back!"  but I pulled through somehow, sat down stunned, and melted into my chair. I thought I'd somehow managed to rise above those moments with my "diligent obedience", but unfortunately, they're still there. As I choose to continue to be obedient, no matter how difficult it is, I'm hoping the Lord will ease my anxieties. 

I'm trying hard to be at peace with going to church every Sunday and I hope as I persevere, that one day I'll be able to say, as that woman in relief society did, "I love to going to church."

Okay, that may be a stretch, but a girl's gotta have a goal, right? J

Pressing forward for Them: the gift that keeps on giving

Yesterday was Easter - the most glorious of all Sundays.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I was intent on going to church and doing my calling, no matter how difficult it was.

With my new perspective, going to church and fulfilling my calling despite my hardships as my gift to the Lord, I felt more at peace about going. I knew it wasn't about me anymore. It was about Them. It was a day to remember our Savior. It was a day to show Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father that I would not let social anxiety be greater than my love and gratitude for them. I wouldn't let my fears stop me from honoring them especially on this most special of all days, Easter.

I went to church with a mix of purpose and apprehension, because honestly, you never know what's going to happen. But I was there. And I wasn't going to let my social anxiety stop me from doing what I knew was right.

Yes, there were still long breaks in-between classes that made me want to choke. Time when chit-chat filled the room and I sat there staring into my purse like there was something important to find. But bathroom breaks and trips to the drinking fountain filled in some of the gaps and after a bit of squirming, class started.

During class we broke up into small groups. Without my new outlook, I don't know if I could have done it. And after class I had to talk to my visiting teachers. But the truth was, I could handle it. I was able to handle it all because I knew it wasn't about me. It was about showing my obedience, love and honor to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. If I had skipped out on any of it, I would be disrespecting them. And I wouldn't do that.

Pressing forward despite my social anxiety, is my gift to God and my Savior. There is power in this new perspective. I have already felt it.

Last week I was able to will myself to sit through a visit with our new Home Teachers. I wanted to skip out so badly, but knew I wouldn't be allowing these men to fulfill their callings if I didn't go. So with my new intent in mind, to press forward for Them, I went.

I'm still not ready to be a visiting teacher yet. I'm still not ready to have my visiting teachers come over. But I have a feeling, that with this new outlook I will be able to get there.

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.

No wonder I hate being social

Wow. What a week this has been!

I had a work training that I had been dreading for months. I knew it was coming and I knew I couldn't get out of it like I normally would, without the threat of losing my job.

I knew it had the potential of being hideously scary but I also knew I could be talking myself up about something that never would be. My co-workers would also be attending, and I feel comfortable with them, so I had to block out any thoughts of how awful it could be and just imagine it being fine.

It has been a while since I've made myself go to something that made me uncomfortable, besides every Sunday at church *wink!, so I blazed forward thinking maybe this time it won't be that bad.

From this week's experience, I learned 4 things:
1. Whoever invented get-to-know-you games needs to be slapped really hard.
2. Whoever thinks adults find it fun to play get-to-know-you-games, needs to be slapped really hard.
3. You can get through something if necessary, even if you think you're close to death.
4. Lets be real - if you can get out of it without negative consequences, GET OUT OF IT!

I'll give you one guess as to how the training went.
No, worse than that. ha!

The room was filled with about 60 people, seated in rows. Thank my lucky stars it wasn't a large circle, or they may have needed to start CPR.

My sensors were up, sizing the place up. It seemed relatively safe. It looked like we could sit in our seats and listen to the lecture. I even socialized with a few people to try and ease in to my surroundings. Hey, I'd actually made it to the training! Call me confident!

Flash forward to the moment it all went south.

The presenters thought it would be fun for us, as adult professionals, to play get-to-know-you-games. (See #2 above)
Need I say more?

Oh but why stop at just one? Or two? Or three? How about an hour of torturous get-to-know-you-games that involved charade-like behavior, hand-to-hand-contact, sharing feelings with strangers, all the while trying to act normal when you're throat is closing up, your face is turning red, and your mind is racing about how you know you can't get out of there but wonder how you'll survive as you feel like you're going to pass out and die?

Are. You. Kidding. Me?!
My eyes get wide and I get all tied up inside just thinking about it.
SLAP THEM!! HARD!!!

I only went to the bathroom once, you'll be proud to know, but it was timed just right.
"Now I'd like you to find a group of 5..."
Um, no. Bathroom time!

I would have stayed in my stall forever if I could, but then maybe someone would have thought I had diarrhea or something. Eeew. Yes, I said it.

So the rest of the awkwardly, uncomfortable, torturous time? I held my water bottle, squeezed the round lid til I made it oval, and ate tic tacs like it was my job. A minty distraction, of sorts. I had to be on my guard. I had no idea when they were going to pull another fast one on me. Another game? Another share-fest? Calling me out of the audience? I couldn't chance it. I was going to eat 100 tic tacs if that's what it took to last the rest of the meeting.

And I survived.
A little worse for wear, but I made it. I'll keep my job. I can check it off my list for at least 6 months.

I shrieked in the car on the way home, laughing and screaming about the ridiculousness of it all. It took me a few hours to come down from the ledge and process the psychotic mess I had just been through. Holy crap. That did not just happen.

So in summary, I cry out to my dear old enemy Social Situations:

"It's been a while, but I can't say it was good to see you again. I was reminded why I hate you. Why I prefer to stay away. Why I find any and every excuse not to see you. Why I feel so much safer staying at home. Sometimes I find the will to get through, only because I know I need to, or have to, but not because I enjoy it.

Other times you're at your worst, leaving me less than I was when I came. And although I eventually recover, the scars are lasting reminders. I won't be fooled. You can disguise yourself any way you'd like to, but I know you're still the same.

I will still avoid you as much as possible, but I know at some point I'll have to see you again, face-to-face. So until the a day I don't have to fear you anymore, I'll arm myself with water and tic tacs. Peace out.

Social Anxiety and Naseau: my new BFF

Just when you think feeling socially anxious is quite enough, thank you very much, another friend steps in. Nausea. How'd you get in? You weren't invited to the party!

It used to be that when I felt social anxiety grab me by the throat, I would choke and gasp and turn red and want to immediately exit the room. Quite normal after being grabbed by the throat, no? But somewhere down the line nausea stepped in and has moved in to stay a while.

When I find myself in situations that cause me to be socially anxious and want to run for the hills, I now feel sick to my stomach. Like I'm going to throw up. Literally. It's a horrific new addition to social anxiety's bag of tricks.

It hit its hardest a few months ago before I was to teach my Relief Society lesson. I had been able to somehow pull it together as a teacher before that time. The Lord had blessed me tremendously. And then one Sunday nausea hit. I'd been feeling off all during sacrament meeting. I couldn't tell if it was just me with the flu or me with "fake" nausea. It didn't matter in the end. I couldn't think straight, feeling sick to my stomach. I had to tell them I didn't feel well and go home.

I didn't end up having the flu, but did have a mix of health issues at the same time. It left me wondering if it was health-realted or simply nausea brought on by social anxiety?

The next time I was to teach? I felt sick to my stomach again. As I stood to introduce my lesson, a wave of warm prickly nausea swept over me. I literally thought I was going to have to run out of the room while politely blurting, "I'm sorry, will you excuse me for a minute?" But I stopped myself and grabbed my bottle of water, took some sips, and tried to normalize the contorted, nauseous expression on my face. After a few dozen sips and a few hard swallows, the nausea subsided just enough to allow me to finish teaching. Oh the horror.

Now I'm not a psychologist or anything, but unfortunately, I believe I have created a new cause-effect for myself. I call it Sick by Association.

I have now associated feeling nauseous with feeling socially anxious. The two now go together, but it's nothing like peanut butter and chocolate, I promise.

Now each time I feel the rabid butterflies of anxiety in my stomach, nausea also creeps in. And even as I try to tell myself, "You're not really sick. You don't have the flu. This is all in your head", the physical symptoms are already full-blown. They come on strong and are harder to brush away than thoughts are.

As if I didn't have enough to deal with! Now this? It makes being around people in social situations that much harder. "Hi, nice to meet you. Now excuse me while I go throw-up."

It has happened in many social situations since, and now I carry anti-nausea meds (which seem to help a little but also make me feel kind of funky). So far, knock on wood, the nausea has only been in my head. Let's hope it never gets to the floor, if you know what I mean.