I got laughed at today. I know, it seems so minuscule compared to everything else that’s going on in the world but for me, that’s a huge deal. When I pulled into the parking lot, I almost collided with this girl from my class. We both waved at each other in apology and parked. I went to class right away but she lingered behind. When she finally came in with her gaggle of friends, she was laughing and looking at me. It was highly mortifying. And I assume they’re all fresh out of high school so this behavior should be expected from little fish. I’m a big fish, a shark really, since I’m graduating in December but they made me feel like a minnow. And then when I raised my hand to answer my teacher’s question (my anxiety level shot through the roof but nobody was volunteering the information she was asking for!), the girls broke out in a fit of giggles again. I answered my teacher’s question but I must say, it was completely and utterly horrible. I came home and took an Ativan to relax because I’m so tense. I keep replaying the incident over and over in my head. How could I have handled it differently? What could I have done to keep from feeling like this? That’s the biggest question. Allister’s helpful book has these “Even though…nevertheless” statements and I keep trying to form one about this situation but it’s not working. This social anxiety is so crippling. I was talking with Kyle, the kid in my class who was misdiagnosed with BPD, about all sorts of random stuff today because we were covering ‘sexual dysfunction.’ It was a funny class. I was extremely awkward though and I’m sure he’s going to go home and talk about me to his friends or his girlfriend and explain how freakish the girl he sits next to is. Why do I set myself up for this? I don’t understand how it seems to happen every single time I’m in a social situation. I’m supposed to be doing drug cards right now but I had to come and talk about this. It was weighing too much on my shoulders. “I want to look like love.” It’s a song by Britt Nicole, this Christian artist I’m in love with. I listen to her all the time. And it’s true. I want to radiate confidence, love and understanding. I want to be the type of person people can approach and just know that their secret is safe with me. I want to be a person that isn’t just a confident person but they’re self-aware. They know who they are. That’s what I struggle with the most. Self-esteem and self-identity just don’t comprehend in my brain. Even talking about it in this setting, sitting alone in my messy, cluttered dining room gets me all ramped up and anxious. I start to hyperventilate and my heart pounds. It’s not quite a panic attack but it’s not quite an anxiety attack either. I don’t know how to describe it but it’s not pleasant. But I will “be the girl who can change the world.”
It’s been forever since I’ve written and for that I apologize. School has clogged my life to the point of exhaustion. When I have free time, I spend it doing absolutely nothing because I have no energy to do anything else. But I’m back! And boy, is there a lot to say! First off, let me begin by saying how sick I am of everyone asking about my scars. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” It’s ridiculous! I sort of shrug it off and try to avoid the question but they’re always persistent little buggers and ask again! Without an option, I’m forced to tell them the truth and watch as their face goes from one of mild curiosity to utter astonishment and slight disgust. It’s mortifying. But I never know how to answer the question. Maybe I’ll just wear long sleeves for the rest of my life. That would solve all my problems. It’s so frustrating though! Part of me wonders if they just want to confirm their suspicions by asking me because it’s kind of obvious what my scars are from. Are people really that cruel though that they would make me say aloud my embarrassing secret? Yea, they are. Second thing I need to cover is this horrible anxiety that accompanies social situations. The other day I managed to hang out with Casey at the movies. It was a little awkward, a little sheepish but for the most part, it was fun. And today, I talked at length with this girl named Anna in my Clinical Medical Assisting class about the certification exam. She was really easy going and it definitely calmed my nerves. But usually, I feel like I’m going to throw up, pass out or throw up and then pass out. Even when I speak in group, I feel like I can’t handle it. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I think it’s because before, I had Mara to back me up (I know, her name pops up everywhere. I sincerely apologize!), I had someone to lean on so it wasn’t as terrifying if I made a fool of myself. She was there to do the exact same thing. But now, I’m all alone so if I embarrass myself, I’m on my own. And I’m absolutely petrified that I’ll embarrass myself. So I avoid, I duck and dodge, I bob and weave, I do anything and everything within my power to avoid social situations. I’ve become a hermit, really. Oh my God, I literally just text Ty to see if she wants to hang out because reading what I just wrote about my nonexistent social life made me feel so pathetic. But then, that panicky, nauseous, I’m-going-to-faint feeling rises within me and I cancel plans. I don’t know what to do. I’m so pathetic. I definitely need to do my homework in that self-esteem workbook Allister had me buy. That’s another thing I want to talk about. I’m doing all this work on self-esteem and building my feeling of self-worth and I think it’s actually working. But for me, that’s terrifying. I’ve never thought highly of myself and I’m not saying that all of a sudden I will but if I start caring about myself, that’s going to change the scope of my depression for good. Depression is all I’ve ever known. Following the train of thought here? This isn’t just rocking the boat, it’s flipping it over and not throwing me a life line in shark-infested waters! I have no idea which way is up or what to do! I’m absolutely terrified. Even talking about it makes me freeze. My heart practically stops. And suddenly I don’t feel like writing anymore. Goodnight.