Social Anxiety in a Social World
Discovering my shyness was actually social anxiety and the steps I took to overcome it
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For as long as I have had memories, I remember being described as “shy.” I remember being in classrooms afraid to be the first to open my mouth or let my light shine, in case I was judged harshly for it. I remember being a spectator in conversations, hurriedly racking my brains for something to say because too long had passed without a word from me. At some point, I convinced myself it was just introversion, this is who I am and liked being.
I was only kidding myself.
This year, I realised the impact this was having on my life and my career. While I had managed to make close friends and grow my network in the office I struggled with completing projects and taking up people’s time and space. Anything that required me to pick up the phone or persist and follow up with people, made my toes curl and my heart sink. I didn’t want to be seen as the “bad” guy or worse, have a confrontation which would make me choke and my heart beat so fast that I couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore. Seeing the repercussions on my career (losing a promotion and not being taken seriously for it) and the fact that I could see others had no problems with these tasks, I made it a mission to overcome this.
Here are the 6 steps I took.
Step 1 — get over fear of therapy. Being a millennial, you would think that I should have no problems walking into a therapist’s office and offloading my past, present and future, my worries and dreams on to their desk. WRONG!
Just googling the words “therapy locally” took so much effort out of me. I want to make it clear that I am an advocate for therapy…for other people. When it came to getting therapy for myself, I felt like I should be “strong” enough to overcome this myself. After all, no one else seemed to struggle with what I was going through. Additionally, my problems felt so “small” in comparison to the horrors of the world (people lost abruptly to coronavirus, Afghanis losing their liberties, climate change impacting livelihoods), why was I looking for support? I should just read a book or an article and move on from there?
However, I had to come to terms that that was not working. I had “always” been this way and nothing I had done so far — trust me, I tried what I thought would work — had made even the tiniest progress in the right direction. I kept examining and re-examining my options and eventually, the thoughts that helped me push the trigger were:
If I don’t do it now, would I just be delaying therapy? Yes.
When I eventually get therapy, would I regret not doing it sooner? Probably YES.
I can’t live with regret so I got on that NHS (the UK National Health Service, essentially free healthcare) website and submitted a request for an appointment. This was kind of a cop out at first. I could have gone private (even though it would have been super expensive and my wallet would not thank me) but I went with the NHS as a way of putting the request out to the universe. If it was meant to happen, then I would get a slot eventually and if it didn’t happen for 2 years then I would have the time to come to terms with the fact that I was getting therapy.
1 month after submitting my NHS request, I had a telephone assessment where I was diagnosed with a “mild” form of social anxiety and so I was on hold to get treatment. My anxiety didn’t feel mild to me but I was okay with the timeline. Having the mild diagnosis on paper made me feel some relief but also some anxiety — one, that I could overcome this but two, if this was mild, was I too in my head about it, was I exaggerating how it felt and should I be able to overcome this on my own or three, does mild just mean something totally different to medical professionals and therefore I couldn’t overcome this easily? Needless to say, the diagnosis itself was causing some anxiety in my life.
Nonetheless, I was SO glad to have a name for what I was experiencing. At school, teachers would often ask me and when receiving an unsatisfactory response, they would ask my parents “why is she so quiet?” I didn’t know what to say then but I do now, it’s social anxiety. In the early days of the diagnosis, I read every article I could find on social anxiety. I scoured google, scientific journals, blog posts — I wanted to know what I was dealing with. Yes, social anxiety had plagued me for years so I knew it but I didn’t understand it. Most of the articles I came across delved into the symptoms, when one should get help and what form that help should take. However, being an optimist, I wanted to know, what had I gained from this companion? Surely, like any good villain, social anxiety was not all bad.
Step 2 — while I waited for my therapy to begin, I would befriend my anxiety. This mostly took the form of acknowledging that it was there. I was trying (and failing) to get comfortable with all the thoughts in my head when I was in meetings or on the phone or had to do some task that involved interaction with any person in the office. I was still procrastinating doing anything remotely social so this method was not working.
Still, I wanted to persevere. I went back to my trusted friend google.
I was pleased to find articles on GoodTherapy and talkspace that highlighted that anxiety and social anxiety did come with benefits. In particular, Reina Gattuso in her talkspace article states those suffering social anxiety are more likely to be “more empathetic than those without, and have increased ability to understand other people’s emotions.” You don’t have to take either of our words for it, I did look up scientific papers finding the same thing — so trust the science.
I could see myself in these positive attributes making myself not totally hate my diagnosis, all of the time. This was progress.
Step 3 — trigger traumatic moments of your childhood that make you remember why you might be the way you are. This was not a voluntary step. I had an event this year that resurfaced suppressed memories. My seeking out therapy (happened 2 months before) and the resurfacing seemed to align — why did I suddenly remember all this after more than 12 years when they were neatly tucked away before?
I was not prepared to face these memories and I struggled with them for months. What this looked like was, crying randomly, mostly during my work day so thank god for working from home. There was one time I did cry in front of my colleague on the phone about something really stupid. This haunts me to this day, I am not a public crier. It also looked like lots of stress, not being able to sleep and some night terrors.
Everything that I would not recommend as any step in your journey to alleviating the anxiety. Avoid this step if you can or if you have to, ideally go through it with your therapist. Basically, either speed up therapy or wait to have your breakdown unlike me.
Given I was still waiting for the NHS to come back to me, I decided that I couldn’t take this any more and (you would think I just hit the button on private therapy, nope)…I enrolled myself to have…acupuncture.
Step 4 — try something random, like acupuncture, hoping that it will help. While waiting for therapy, I looked up resources online. I found an acupuncture studio close to me. It’s something I have been meaning to look into, fascinated by the idea that needles could be pleasant. I set about my afternoon research, reading a few articles that purported that acupuncture could alleviate stress, before booking an appointment.
I was going to go meet my acupuncturist that weekend. With some excitement and mostly trepidation, I set about my journey. The first meeting was very extensive, I mentioned my primary reason (stress and crying) but she dived into all areas of my life (my menstrual cycle, pain I felt in my body, how often I went to the toilet, the formation of whatever came out, the colour of my tongue). Finally, she guided me to the massage table, assuring me that it wouldn’t hurt. Did my wincing give away my fear of needles?
I have to say that that first appointment was magical. I was skeptical when I went in but coming out of the room, I felt like I was on drugs. My senses were dulled and I felt so calm, too calm, like I couldn’t quite think quick enough. I had been irritable most of that week but coming home from the appointment, speaking to my other half, I could tell that I would have been annoyed but my mind had a moment to pause and reconsider and let go. It was what I imagine the perfect meditative state feels like. I slept like a baby that day.
The unfortunate things about acupuncture were:
- It was fixing the symptom and not the root cause.
- Therefore, it was a temporary solution. I would lose the feeling in a few days at most and go back to feeling stress and irritability.
- Personally, it lost it effectiveness after the first few sessions. I never reached that state again.
While acupuncture had helped a little, it was not a panacea for my anxiety.
Step 5 — have a trigger event coming up in your life that leads you to bring forward therapy. In month 6 of waiting, I was notified of an upcoming event that I would not be able to avoid. The event was already seeping into every waking moment and in my sleep. Having had the breakdowns earlier in the year, I knew that I would really struggle to keep it together if I didn’t go semi-prepared. I had to check in on where I was on the list. I e-mailed the NHS.
After 2 more weeks of waiting, the NHS came through and I was assigned a therapist. My first appointment occurred on the Friday of the same week. The first meeting was one of the toughest things I have done. I had to open up about myself to essentially, a stranger. I felt vulnerable and exhausted and relieved all at the same time. Things I had never fulled verbalised before came tumbling out. I was surprised at how much I had not said before and how much I still had in me.
The therapist proposed we meet weekly. I would have 12 sessions focussing on my social anxiety with one closer to the trigger event discussing how to deal with it. My therapy would be CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy). She described this as “active” therapy. I would be given exercises each week and I would have to report back. Okay, homework, something I am familiar with. The nerd in me was comforted by the prospect.
Step 6 — take therapy seriously. On a weekly basis, therapist and I would meet virtually. This made things easier, I was in the comfort of my own house and did not have to face the world post-session. Every session drained me so having to make a journey on public transport would have been a nightmare.
During the sessions, I vowed to be honest no matter what that meant for me. I was prepared to be judged harshly (there were no harsh judgements from the other side), to be told I am at fault (this didn’t happen either) and to challenge my beliefs (there was a lot of this). Each week, I would convey how I had done that week whether it was in a social experiment that I was assigned or just generally. Being totally honest allowed my therapist and me to see patterns in my behaviour. Recognising these patterns helped me address each of them with her.
Over time, I found that the lessons permeated my life. Whenever I went back into my head, I would use my therapist’s advice to focus externally. In the beginning, this overwhelmed me. A lot happens in the outside world, people constantly moving, talking, cars whizzing past but I had to stay with it and eventually I could see myself growing accustomed to it. Still, it was not easy. Some days I would go two steps back but I knew that I had to stay the course.
Where am I today? I am halfway done with my sessions.
I still have a long way to go. I still procrastinate on tasks requiring social interaction. I can think of 2 off the top of my head right now which I should have gotten to earlier. However, I am proud of taking the first adult step to conquering my social anxiety. I know that getting over it will take me time and courage. I am willing to invest both.
