Social Anxiety Keeps Interfering With My Life
I have had enough
I didn’t want to write this, but my therapist was hesitant I should. That first sentence was a joke. I shouldn’t make fun of my therapist. The insurance company pays her to hear my bickering.
I tell her I want romance. I want friends. I want a shit load. But, I let social anxiety take control.
She doesn’t tell me specifically, but I can see it in her face. Internally, she’s screaming, “Get over it, Alexander! You’re no longer that person.” It’s true. I’m not, but I keep holding on.
Growing up, I was an overweight child. I despised the ridicule. It didn’t make a change until I was 14. I went from 240 to 130 within three years.
Even though kids picked on me, I wasn’t nice to people. Kids bullied me, and I bullied others. I’m unsure where the disdain came from. It must’ve been my way of retaliating.
Either way, I had to learn to be a better person. It was challenging. My little brother became the recipient of this learning experience. He resents me for the years of physical and verbal mistreatment.
“I hoped one day I was strong enough to beat him. I’ll feel bad now that I am,” my brother said.
I don’t know what to tell him. “I wasn’t the best older brother. I was an autistic kid not ready to have a little brother,” is a good place to start.
I took out on him because of the abuse in school. I went from the fat kid to the eccentric, shy teenager. However, my years of being the latter boiled over and grew into anxiety. Then, that anxiety became social anxiety.
Moving to adulthood and college, whenever someone tries to talk to me. I put zero effort into my past. But this feeling of being ridiculed circles around when I stay silent.
“You’re not that person anymore. Get over it.”
At 28, I don’t know what to do. Because of this lingering fear, I keep turning down relationships and career opportunities. To some, I’m young enough to change, but I feel stuck in my ways. The best option is intensive therapy.
My therapist suggested EMDR or Neurotherapy. These therapies trick the mind into letting go of trauma or PTSD.
And yes, I have tried pills, and they don’t help.
I’m not writing this for sympathy or pity. It’s just what’s on my mind.
A few of my Medium acquaintances have tried to reach out. I’m sorry if I haven’t. I want to deal with my social anxiety alone before I return to the real world.
Even though I’m skeptical, this could be it.
I will let go.
