Instead, I acted cagey, bailed on plans at the last minute or simply declined invitations altogether. Given this kind of behavior, I couldn’t blame my friends if they thought I was a total flake.
Plenty of us get a little anxious in a room full of people, but even among my closest friends, I silently panicked. Sometimes I appeared animated; talking fast and not thinking about what I said. Other times, I chose my words so carefully, the conversation felt forced.
I’d spend days trying to predict how an upcoming event would turn out. I’d grip (and guzzle) a glass of wine to calm my nerves at a party.
Imagine going out with your friends on a Friday night and spending the entire weekend privately rehashing what you said, what they said and wondering why they didn’t text you back on Saturday. The only way I could break the cycle of rumination was by going to work on Monday and trying to focus on that instead of the weekend.
The weight of worrying was crushing. It was easier to simply avoid social occasions altogether. I justified my behavior by calling myself an introvert who needed downtime. A lot of downtime.
Logically I knew staring at the four walls of my apartment wasn’t healthy, but I felt paralyzed.
Friendships: It’s Nothing Personal
They say social anxiety often leads to depression, but my pain-in-the-head timeline is opaque. I don’t remember which came first. One thing I became acutely aware of, however, was that the double-whammy of depression and anxiety was derailing part of my 20s and damaging my friendships.
I skipped out on a lot of plans. In my absence, my boyfriend (now husband) was left to explain to our friends why I didn’t show up again. After a while, some people stopped asking where I was. Still others wondered aloud if I didn’t like them. My actions – bailing out – spoke louder than my words. It was understandable when friends stopped calling or assumed I wouldn’t accept their next invitation.
I offered flimsy excuses as to why I didn’t show up, but my friends are smart people; they weren’t buying what I was selling. Really, my problem was I simply didn’t know how to communicate to my friends that me avoiding them wasn’t actually about them at all.
I had self-inflicted FOMO, yet I didn’t tell anyone about the paralyzing fear because I felt ridiculous. I couldn’t explain that my hand was turning the doorknob to leave when I suddenly visualized talking to someone I didn’t know very well. I couldn’t say I’d be late because I broke into a cold sweat and would need to shower again. And, there was no way I was admitting to spending the next night replaying the previous night.
Social Anxiety is Totally Treatable
Of course, as it turned out, I didn’t have to live with this pain. And if you suffer from social anxiety like I did, you don’t need to either.
But it does take lots of practice. I was prone to cognitive distortions before, during and after a social situation. I was a pro at “fortune telling,” where I’d predict how badly a scenario would turn out, despite having zero facts. Once I was out, instead of being present and enjoying the moment I was in, I’d spend it analyzing people’s reactions and jumping to conclusions. Later, I’d have thoughts about what I “should” have said or done.
To save my sanity and my friendships, I needed to recognize these distortions as they happened and challenge the way I viewed a situation. I had to ask myself a lot of challenging questions. When I was in an environment that could trigger certain behaviors or thinking patterns, it was on me to actively to stop them.
Using cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) methods, it’s possible to challenge the negative thoughts associated with depression and social anxiety. Instead of jumping to a conclusion – ie, “no one here likes me” – I was taught instead to reframe a scenario and to ask myself, “If they didn’t like me, why did they invite me out?”
Once you start down this positive path, it very quickly becomes difficult to find evidence to back up your anxious thinking. And although CBT is a short-term method, I still draw on the skills in certain settings. I’ll never be comfortable going around a table and sharing three interesting tidbits about myself. I will also never enjoy public speaking. Those are just facts. But I’ve learned, over time, to manage myself better even in the most naturally uncomfortable settings.
Building Stronger Friendships
My friends and husband deserve all the credit in the world for their patience and understanding. It can’t be easy to comprehend why someone close to you seemingly makes a choice to avoid you … or fun.
Once I began to felt better, I knew it was my job to finally explain how social anxiety and depression prevented me from being a good friend. I wanted to make it clear that many times, I wanted to be there. I just couldn’t make it happen.
In addition to CBT, being candid with my pals was crucial. Social anxiety can drive a wedge between people, but talking honestly opens up a larger discussion about the pain each person may feel. Even if you’re the one with social anxiety, it’s important to know how it can affect your friends.
And, when I can’t quite explain it? There’s a meme for that.
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