Dealing with Social Anxiety

Last weekend my husband decided to have a social gathering for Labor Day; he went all out making slow-cooked pulled pork, his famous baked beans, and cole slaw; he then invited some neighbors and friends. When he initially told me about it the week before, I was on board, and let him take over the planning and inviting. But, when the day of the party arrived, I began to panic, feeling those all too familiar sensations: rapid heart rate, eyes welling up with tears, irritability, and an irresistible urge to run away, to escape, to avoid the event completely. It wasn't that I don't like company--I do--but in small, manageable numbers...like two. He had invited not one couple, not two, but three couples; not only did I not know one of the couples, all three couples also did not know each other, and there were some pretty strong outspoken personalities in the group, so of course I was concerned about everyone getting along and desperately wanted no one to say anything gauche. I was torn between being a helper, a wife, and a hostess, and giving in to my fear and anxiety. Needless to say, the closer the clock ticked to 4:00 pm, the more anxious I got, the more I simply wanted to do anything to avoid the impending social gathering. I could claim I had a  debilitating migraine, or perhaps I could just drive around for a few hours. Crying, irrational, and not sure what to do, I grabbed my gardening hat and tools and went to my one place of solace--my garden--where I weeded and watered and prayed and cried, all the while feeling ashamed for feeling so anxious. 

The couple I had never met arrived first...bearing trays of food and a vase of flowers, and wearing masks. They hailed me as I was bent over some particularly stubborn weeds...and I knew I had to suck it up and become the consummate host. I introduced myself, thanked them for the beautiful flowers, and ushered them into our home. I was stuck. The next three hours were a blur (yes, I realize that is an overused cliche, but they really were a blur). The food was wonderful, my husband worked his butt off (no pun intended), we ate outside, everyone got to know each other the way humans have gotten acquainted over the centuries: over good food. Everyone was talking to each other, folks laughed and listened, and believe it or not, yes I was talking as well; I just do not have a very good recollection of what the heck I talked about.  That is common for me in social situations--I panic ahead of time, and then during it I have some sort of out of body experience, like I am watching myself flounder. Next, the after effect of my social anxiety kicks in: I try to play back the videotape that is in my head, trying to recreate the afternoon, to ascertain if I did anything or said anything stupid or insensitive or hurtful. Did I laugh too hard or too long? Did I talk too much? Too little? Did I pay equal attention to all our guests? What about Alex? Shouldn't I have helped him more? Should I have put a tablecloth on the spare table we put on the back deck? In my effort to get to know the new couple, was I rude to my neighbors or my friends that I did know? Did anyone think it odd that my husband did all the food preparation and planning and all I did was move chairs around? Could anyone tell I was nervous? Or that I had cried less than ten minutes before they arrived? 

Are you exhausted yet? 

This is what I deal with for most social situations--not all, mind you, but most. Big gatherings where I can remain fairly anonymous are safe, as our small, intimate encounters with folks that I know, but going to my husband's work-related soirées was exhausting and beyond stressful. Speaking or teaching in front of groups, even extemporaneously, does not trigger any anxiety, but having to meet a new person at a coffee shop makes me want to run for the hills. Running a fundraiser attended by hundreds of people may exhaust me, but it doesn't scare me, yet cold-calling or visiting potential donors or participants and asking for donations is so frightening I would rather go buy all the raffle prizes myself and send emails and texts. Even more puzzling? I served in the military for 22 years, then as a military contractor for another decade, and for most of that was a subject matter expert, trainer, teacher, supervisor and mentor. Panic attacks and anxiety were always there; I just pushed them back or hid behind my characteristic defense mechanisms of sarcasm, humor, and wit (and, I am ashamed to say, sometimes with passive-aggressive comments). Since I've retired, though, I am far more aware (PAINFULLY aware!) of who I am as a highly sensitive person; I recognize that I do have social anxiety--as folks are apt to say in the vernacular of the day: it is what it is.

So while I may appear to be poised, in control, exuding confidence, and handling all matters of social nuances with ease, nothing could be farther from the truth. My self-assured exterior is a facade, masking my fear that others won't like me or believe me or listen to me. But I'm getting better...with the help of friends, counselors, my very understanding and patient husband, and the Holy Spirit; I know how I see myself, how I view my shortcomings and abilities. And I hold that view up to God's truth, and let His grace wash over me. 

And if you are also like me, do not lose hope. You are not alone.