For many, a quick trip to the post office or ordering a pizza is a mundane task. However, for me, these actions feel like monumental challenges. Just the thought of completing any of these tasks plunges me into a whirlwind of anxiety, necessitating a mental pep talk before I can even think about moving forward. As a result, my closet holds unworn clothes waiting to be returned, I have a saved Domino’s order that remains untouched, and I avoid sending anything that doesn’t fit in my mailbox (apologies for the less-than-stellar gifts, friends). Recently, I participated in a book exchange with some friends. After finishing my book yesterday, I found myself awake at 2 a.m., consumed by anxiety over the prospect of taking it to the post office.
I know it’s absurd. I can’t pinpoint the source of my fear—perhaps it’s the worry of being judged? My rational mind tries to interject with thoughts like, “It’s not a big deal.” Yet those thoughts quickly get drowned out by a wave of panic, leaving me feeling breathless and my heart racing. This is my social anxiety, a burden I’ve carried since it first emerged during my senior year of high school—unseen but ever-present.
Most people don’t understand it, which is why only a few know about my struggle. I’ve developed coping strategies over the years, often pretending that those tags on unworn shirts are still there because I “keep forgetting” to return them. To outsiders, I might appear to be a vibrant, extroverted individual, and in certain situations, I can be just that. I’ve even been a group fitness instructor for several years, where my students see me as enthusiastic and lively.
However, they would never recognize me on my hardest days, when my motivation feels like it’s drained away, and simply getting out of bed feels like an uphill battle. On those days, even a trip to the mailbox can feel overwhelming, let alone interacting with friends or family. If someone unexpectedly knocks on my door, I might find myself crouching behind the couch, heart racing like I’m hiding from a predator rather than just avoiding a salesperson.
Afterward, logic kicks in, and I scold myself: Why am I being so irrational? Regular people don’t act this way. If I had my life together, I wouldn’t struggle like this. What’s wrong with me?
Would I say those things to anyone else? Absolutely not. I empathize with others’ struggles, recognizing them as challenges beyond their control. Yet when it comes to my own anxiety, I see it as a flaw, a testament to my inadequacy. I despise having a condition I can’t simply will away. My perspective is clouded by self-criticism, making it difficult to view my issues objectively.
Despite all this, I find ways to cope. I have responsibilities—family, a household, multiple jobs. I know that isolating myself won’t solve the problem, so on particularly tough days, I push through the mental turmoil, striving to maintain a semblance of normalcy, one small step at a time.
I once mustered the courage to visit a therapist, but I couldn’t bring myself to return because she avoided eye contact, leading me to worry that she thought I was strange.
Welcome to my world. Just imagine how different life could be if I could navigate it with ease and confidence.
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Summary
Anxiety can make even the simplest tasks feel insurmountable. For Jenna, everyday activities like mail runs and social interactions trigger overwhelming panic. While she appears extroverted and capable to others, she grapples with internal struggles that often leave her feeling isolated and self-critical. Despite these challenges, she continues to seek coping mechanisms and navigate her responsibilities, hoping for a day when life feels a little more manageable.