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| Wednesday, January 18, 2006 |
| Surviving New Year's Eve 2005 |
Finally an update on the New Year’s Eve party. I know I’m writing 18 days after the fact. But as they say, better late than never, right?
Contrarily to what my therapist may think, the party was not a failure. Sure, I didn’t say much of anything throughout, but I did stay until 3 am. I can’t say I was beaming with happiness, but I didn’t have to hide in a closet either. No, like a good girl, I stayed at the party within sight, if not always close distance, of the other guests. I was just, well, lost in my own world a good part of the time.
Here’s how it went.
I managed to seduce my boyfriend long enough that we didn’t leave his apartment till 10:30 pm. My hope was to keep him under my charm the whole night, yet much to disappointment, that didn’t work. We had to go to the party, he said. And so we did. Mutter grumble.
We got there at 11 pm. A charming townhouse, sparsely furnished and festively decorated for the occasion. Before we even walked up the stairs to the living room, I had trouble swallowing and my heartbeat was galloping. I was very nervous. Yet much to my surprise, the party was quiet, the people scattered around. It seemed like a cozy little house party. Christmas lights adorned the stairwell; it looked almost enchanting. Somehow I felt more at ease.
As we entered the kitchen, more people came into sight. At once, they came to greet my boyfriend who proceeded to introduce me to everyone in the room. Though a bit uncomfortable, I managed to greet them in as friendly, though quiet, a voice as possible. ‘Nice to meet you, too’ was all I could muster.
At first, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. I thought, ‘what do I do with myself? Where do I put my hands? I can’t look bored or out of place or they’ll think I’m weird.’ So I busied myself by eating. I hadn’t had dinner – too nervous to eat anything, so this was a good opportunity to fill up and pretend I was enjoying myself like everyone else at this party. Eating was a good excuse not to speak to anyone. As I ate, I started observing the people around me instead.
The more I observed, the more I realized that these people were not as intimidating as I had thought they would be. As my boyfriend had told me beforehand, they were really just ‘a bunch of dorks’ trying to have a good time. Indeed they were. I neither liked them nor disliked them. That was good.
I also noticed that they really couldn’t care less about me. How could they possibly be thinking bad thoughts of me? They were too busy drinking and socializing to even pay attention to me. They neither liked me nor disliked me. That, too, was good, I thought.
Soon I realized I was a wallflower. No one really noticed me. I kind of liked it that way. Glittery little me – I was wearing a golden sequined sweater – was standing quietly in her corner, smiling appropriately, pretending to fit in. I had this eerie feeling that it wasn’t me there at the party. Who is that girl laughing at the jokes and who, when spoken to, utters the most polite, succinct responses with a sweet smile? I was like an actress in her most challenging movie role and I knew it. The real me would either have run away or retracted in her shell in fear. It was all an act to pretend I was normal.
Inside all I wanted to do was run away as far as possible. And I did, in between acting scenes. But instead of running away physically, I ran away mentally. I thought of absolutely nothing. I was just there, numb and lost in the surreal moment, in a soft bittersweet torpor. They might have seen right through me if it hadn’t been for the faint smile I tried to keep on my face at all times. Keep smiling, Cinthia, and they won’t know you don’t really want to be here.
And so went my New Year’s Eve party. It helped that my boyfriend was often by my side. He squeezed my hand, gave me a few comforting hugs and just made sure I was doing alright. Later he asked me if anyone had been mean to me. He joked that if anyone had, he’d go punch them. What a sweet boy he can be. I owe it to him that I stayed so long.
With a long sigh of relief I can say I survived New Year’s Eve 2005. Thank goodness there is no mandatory party in sight anytime soon. I can definitely breathe easier now. |
posted by Cinthia @ 3:31 PM   |
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| Thursday, December 29, 2005 |
| Party Survival Kit |
I went to my first individual therapy session yesterday, and while it was an informative meeting, I am still nervous about the upcoming New Year's Eve party. The good news is, I've made up my mind to actually go to the silly party. My boyfriend said he'd be there for me if I needed help. Somehow that helped convince me.
Of course, once I’ll get anxious that probably won’t make much of a difference. So, after much thought, I've come up with a survival kit to bring with me to the party. Here it is:
- My therapist suggestions, neatly written on a piece of paper
- A dry erase board with marker
- My iPod
- A fascinating book
- A flashlight
- Pen and paper
- My homework for therapy (cognitive cycle worksheet)
- Blankets
- Earplugs
- Sleep mask
- Maybe my plush kitten
- My cell phone (of course)
I will make a brave attempt to follow my therapist's suggestions. A part of me wants to outdo myself this time and prove to myself, my boyfriend and the therapist that I'm not a complete failure. I also kind of want to show my boyfriend's friends that I'm no weirdo, as rumor has it.
Yet I realize I can't succeed overnight, which is why I'm preparing this survival kit. There's nothing worse for me than not having a way to ease, if not eliminate, the anxiety and the negative feelings once they hit me. Sometimes I’m so overwhelmed by the situation I have to leave the moment – daydream, listen to music or read in an empty, quiet place, hide, take a walk or just leave completely.
The dry erase board is for when nobody can understand what I’m saying either because I'm speaking too softly or because I'm mumbling . My voice is soft in general, but when I’m socially anxious, it’s barely audible. The same goes with my diction; it completely goes down the drain if I'm nervous. Sometimes I wish I were just mute so I wouldn’t have to say another word again. It is so frustrating to have people ask me over and over to repeat what takes great pains for me to say in the first place. My boyfriend claims he’ll ‘translate’ for me, but I can't force him to stay with me the whole time.
The flashlight is if I decide to hide in a dark spot, such as a closet or in the car, and I want to read, write or work on my worksheets. The blankets are to keep me warm wherever I go. The sleep mask is to shut out the lights and the entire world so that hopefully I can sleep in peace. Same thing goes for the earplugs. And I might even find them useful while I’m still at the party, so I can shut out the noises and be in my own quiet little world, a world where no one is criticizing me nor talking about me behind my back – I can already hear them say how weird I am for not talking to anyone.
My cell phone I shall use as a last resort if I just can’t take it anymore. I will have the cab company’s number programmed into it so that I can call for them to take me away. My boyfriend insists that I let him know if I must absolutely leave. He says he wants to make sure I get a proper ride. But knowing him, he’ll probably be too busy getting drunk and having a blast with his pals to care about where I am, what I am doing and least of all, how I am feeling. I love my boyfriend and he loves me, too, but I can't be a nuisance and inso doing, spoil his New Year's Eve.
Of course, these are only worst scenarios. For all I know I might find someone ‘safe’ to talk to all night and I might behave in an almost ‘normal’ way as a result. The first thing I’ll do is scan the place for my safe pal. Observation is key there. While I’m running millions of thoughts through my mind at the same time, I’m also observing, watching and analyzing other people’s body language, behaviors and facial expressions. Oftentimes it’s more to my detriment – I tend to interpret body language in such a way that I frequently come up with negative conclusions (so and so is frowning, therefore he must think I’m a loser) – but otherwise, I observe to filter out the potentially ‘safe’ people from the rest.
Well, we’ll see how it goes. I’ve done enough thinking about this party as it is. I should stop it and just go to the damn thing. If it works out, great. If not, well, there’s always a next time. These are supposed to be learning experiences for me. Even if I accomplish one little thing at this party, whether it be to make it a point to at least say hello to people when they greet me, or just stay in sight, if not socialize, in the house throughout most of the party, that’ll be something worth celebrating at the end of the day.
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| posted by Cinthia @ 2:48 PM |
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| Tuesday, December 27, 2005 |
| A Step Towards Freedom? |
I took a major step forward today. I got in touch with a therapist specializing in social anxiety disorders and I set up an appointment for tomorrow morning.
A couple of weeks ago, I was invited to a New Year's Eve party. I thought things might be alright and I would go, but as the dreaded day has been creeping closer and closer, I've been feeling more and more anxious about it. Now I can't stop agonizing over it - whether I should go or stay home, what I should wear, what I should say, how I should act, how I will escape the situation if things go wrong etc. I know it's just a stupid little party, yet for some reason I'm acting as if my whole life depended on it. It really is ridiculous that I should be so distressed over such a minor thing like that.
I took the decisive step to get professional help with this party in mind, but I understand that I can't be made to be comfortable in social situations overnight - and I know all too well I'll never be a social butterfly. The therapist did tell me in advance that because he didn't know me at all, all he'd be able to provide was general advice and tips to help me with the party. It makes sense. I can't expect miracles, least of all in such a short amount of time. It would be unrealistic.
I'm going to this one session and if it goes well, I'll keep up with it. I'm just tired of being so anxious about social situations. And I'm tired of living inside a shell as a result of this social anxiety. While life inside the shell is safe, it is also dark, empty and lonely. With this New Year, I hope to make a fresh start towards freedom. I'm apprehensive about the changes that I will have to make and the obstacles I will have to face, but at the same time, I'd love to discover what it's like to be fear-free, self-confident and happy. |
| posted by Cinthia @ 11:25 AM |
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| Friday, December 23, 2005 |
| Dead On: I've Got Avoidant Personality Disorder |
I finally figured out what's been wrong with me all these years: Avoidant Personality Disorder. I've self-diagnosed myself, but from reading about it, I think I couldn't be more dead on.
I am constantly afraid of rejection and humilitation, so I choose to retreat into reclusion. I am convinced that I can rely on no one but myself. I feel safer on my own, but at the same time, I long for friends. I've long desired for people to like me, yet all I seem to do is drive them away. Consequently, nobody likes me - or so I've convinced myself.
Social situations terrify me. When I do make an effort to go out with people, I am too busy coming up with something to say, analyzing the situation and wondering if these people think I'm an idiot to pay full attention to what's being said. When I have found the opportune time to speak and have finally come up with something meaningful to say, I struggle to get words out of my throat. It's as though I've suddenly become mute. If sound does come through, it is usually muffled. No one can ever hear what I say because I mumble and speak too softly. In the end, I just shut up because now I feel like a total fool; it's no use trying.
Oftentimes, I can't even say hello to people, whether at the office or elsewhere. As a result, I come off as a cold, unfriendly person, and it's no surprise that no one is interested in talking to me. The only time when I'll be less shy is when I feel safer. In situations where dancing is involved and I feel like I'm in my element, I'll be more confident. During my ballroom dancing days, I seemed to have little trouble asking less experienced men to dance. Of course, asking people at my dancing level or above was a different story; I usually waited for them to ask me or pretended I was too busy to dance with them. People like me do everything in their power to avoid getting rejected - even if it means rejecting others before they can be rejected.
Likewise, in dating situations, I date people I consider 'safe,' people whom I'm sure already like me, people who look shy themselves. In these cases, I know I can't be rejected. If anything, I can reject them and it gives me a sense of control.
Same thing with choosing friends in general. I never go for the popular or the gregarious. Instead, I pick the odd ones, the ones most people wouldn't think of wanting as friends. I pick the outcasts, the quiet ones, the peculiar, and the rejected, misunderstood bunch. I love those people because I can relate to them. They know what I'm going through and I know what they're going through. With these people, I feel as though I don't have to go out of my way to look good and impress them. I don't even have to go out of my way to look unattractive and drive them away before they reject me. No, these people can like me just the way I am.
The other thing about me that coincides well with avoidant personality disorder is that I have incredibly low self-esteem. I'm extremely hard on myself and I'm perpetually beating myself up. For instance, people keep telling me how great of a belly dancer I am, yet I can't seem to be able to believe it. Until recently when I decided to give up the dream of being a belly dancer, I used to work like a dog in order to achieve the level of perfection I sought for in my dancing, but I was never happy with the results and felt like I was getting nowhere, so I totally gave up. I also felt like none of my teachers liked me, or appreciated me, and for some reason, that killed my zeal. As someone who's always hoping for positive approval, but feels like she isn't getting any - and can't take any sort of criticism without feeling like the whole world is against me, I am bound to fail.
And surely, I feel like a failure in all I do. My thoughts are as black as night. I'm always thinking, 'I'll never succeed in life because I simply don't have the right personality. I'm not outgoing enough and nobody likes me ...' Sadly, I am also good at finding excuses for my behavior, my pessimism and my lack of action. Trying to cheer me up or instill self-confidence in me is a vain endeavour. You might have better luck trying to break through a brick wall.
I wonder how you change an unhealthy personality that's been deeply rooted since childhood. I have memories of myself as a small child, playing by myself instead of with other kids, and hiding in a dark corner during recess. I was always the outcast.
It might have been alright as a child, but today as a full-grown adult, I'm miserable, unhappy and lonely. All the self-help books in the world can't help me. I want to change and have tried, but nothing has worked. I know I need help and I wish I could go get it. Unfortunately I have no medical insurance and can't afford any kind of therapy.
Hopefully writing these thoughts down will help some, though. I just can't keep bottling everything up inside anymore. Now that I know specifically what's wrong with me, I can try to figure out what to do about it. That's about the most positive thing I've said - and will probably say - all day. Welcome to the real me. |
| posted by Cinthia @ 10:29 AM |
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| About Me |
Name: Cinthia Cinthia
Home: Washington, D.C., United States
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