So is admitting to social anxiety a good thing? It depends.

A common question in job interviews is: “What is your greatness weakness?” I’ve been asked this question many times before and have a tendency to answer quite honestly with of course the requisite positive spin. I find it fairly difficult to find the good in other weaknesses but social anxiety is one I’ve used before.

In this particular case the interview was with people I knew moderately well; I had known them for some time so I wasn’t going in cold. At the time I didn’t yet have the terminology to explain what I felt, I hadn’t researched social anxiety and I simply thought I was a really shy person. So when I was asked what my greatest weakness is that’s exactly what I said: “I’m really shy.” And that my dear friends is a weakness, there is nothing positive about it, it is a weakness through and through. But whoa, would you look at that, I just handed you a portfolio of my journalism work, you’ve seen me take part in your organization, we have a good rapport, so how can I be the socially anxious student I’m claiming to be?

It was an answer that served me well. It isn’t positive, it is really difficult to deal with and can become completely debilitating. I’m not going to try to convince you that it’s a good thing, I’m not going to tell you that quieter members are needed in a group, I’m not going to convince you that at least I avoid conflict. No, none of those are a positive aspect of social anxiety, the anxiety itself doesn’t have a positive aspect to it at all. It can be hell.

What I am going to tell you is that I’m an introverted, socially anxious, moderate agoraphobic who loves media, journalism, and communications. I’m going to tell you that I came to university afraid of going to a grocery store and yet managed to attend the G20 on my own. What I’m going to tell you is that I have trouble speaking with my professors but I managed to get an interview with David Johnston. What I’m going to tell you is that I feel an unnatural amount of adrenaline everyday of my life and I don’t know how to live without it.

I may be afraid but I’m not afraid of fear itself. I don’t know how to live without it. I don’t know life without a constant rush of adrenaline at every social interaction. I will be afraid but I will also be the first to jump head first into facing that fear. You want somebody confident, don’t hire me. You want somebody who can act confident and handle a tough and stressful situation – that’s what you want me for. And there isn’t a part of me that doubts I could the job. I am dead scared, but I’m also dead serious when I say I’m dedicated to self-improvement.

So that wasn’t exactly what I said in the interview but it was something along those lines. I got the job. I got that job, but would I get another with the same answer.

I don’t know.

As long as you have the requisite skills in rhetoric and make it open and honest it is an answer that can serve you well. When it comes to a more communications based job it may be a hinderance but I think that as long as you can prove that it is something that you’re overcoming then you should be fine.

But what about my original concern, should I continue writing this online?

It’s no secret that employers like to Google names of those applying for their jobs, even I’ve done it. So when they Google me they will come across a slew of things online that detail my experiences with social anxiety, my failures and my successes. It could hurt me.

I’m not willing to give it up though. This is me, this is what you’re getting. I know that selective disclosure is important, especially in the job market but leaving this out is akin to leaving out a lack of PHP knowledge for a computer programming job. Yes, the two are different but I see them the same way. This isn’t something that I can just separate from my professional life, it is a part of my whole life. It will affect me, it will help me, it will hinder me, but it is me.

Writing about this, exploring this, educating people about this, it’s all important to me. I can only hope that an employer who Googles me takes the time to read it all and get the same answer I gave my previous employer, otherwise they will misunderstand who I am. It’s a risk but it’s one I’m willing to take.

That seems to happen with so many things that are important to me, they just stop being so important. I mean, they are, but the motivation just isn’t there. It’s a little bit like what’s happened recently with my fighting my social anxiety.

I use the term social anxiety as a blanket term for mostly all the anxiety I feel. While people generally think of it as something that has to do only with communication apprehension, they don’t realize how much we’re always communicating. If I don’t act shy or reticent then they don’t envision any anxiety. If the anxiety isn’t about the act of speaking then they don’t see anxiety. The thing about anxiety though, at least my anxiety, is that it exists for any sort of communication I might be engaging in. It has to do with what I wear, the way I walk, sit, eat, the way I talk, what I say, how I act. It has to do with everything.

It’s no surprise that I’m often feeling anxious and stressed then. Most days I’m pretty good at fighting it, sure I don’t fight it every time, but I do so often. Lately though I’ve felt like I haven’t really been doing very well at that. I just haven’t had the motivation to try. I’ve been asking people to buy me things instead of me doing it myself. I’ve been avoiding going to prof’s offices because it’s scary. I’m afraid of going to work.

I have to participate in my classes, in one of them participation is worth 33%, I need to participate, but I won’t. It’s a class in which we have both large and small group discussions. Originally I thought the small groups might turn out better but thinking about it, I doubt that’s the case. The small groups would be okay, but the prof will be there. Generally talking to people who know as much or less about the issue than I do I can deal with, but when people who know what they’re talking about (ie. prof) are there, that’s when I really dislike talking.

I get so nervous, what could I have to offer? What could I ever have to say that is smart or insightful? Why should I talk or say something or pretend I can contribute when I can’t?

Well, I should because I need the mark. I really do need the grade. I really, really, really need the grade.

I guess I can tell this story:

Felicia and I have been meaning to go get our skirts tailored for quite some time now. We never ended up going but I was trying on my skirt the other day and decided I really want to wear it in the winter so I have to go get it done. Having mentioned it to my mother meant she would probably kind of force me to go but I was hoping I could take her with me.

As I was showing my mother the skirt, a friend of hers dropped by and stayed for coffee. This left me all alone going to a tailor. My experience with tailors is very limited. I went once when I needed my prom dress taken in and went once with my mom when she needed pants hemmed. Otherwise my mother always hemmed our pants when we were young and nowadays I don’t need them hemmed.

I was scared but knew that I needed to go and didn’t want to tell her, and especially not her friend that I was scared. It’s embarrassing to tell people that you’re afraid of something like that. Why would you be? Besides, as far as my mother is concerned I have no emotions, except maybe anger.

Off I went. I knew I had to.

It turned out not to be so bad. I got it over with and all went fine. If it weren’t for the fact that I told my mother though, I wouldn’t have gone. Sometimes it’s good to put yourself in a situation you know you won’t get out of, even though it will be scary and stressful.

—

I also realized something else. I’m a really nervous driver, partly because I’m scared of dying, but also because I’m so scared of doing something wrong. I attribute everything to social anxiety. I do this because everything is a form of communication, the way you drive says something about you, but I don’t know that it can really be considered social anxiety. I suppose, along with that anxiety, I really have issues about being perfect and the way people perceive me. I’m not scared of doing something wrong just because it will get me killed or get me a ticket. No, I’m scared because people will see. I’m always scared that the people behind me will think that I’m driving too slowly, or that I’m taking too long to make a left hand turn.

I’m always really nervous making a left turn at a light with people behind me. If it takes me a long time because of poor visibility or heavy traffic I’m always worried that people will get angry with me.

I think my issues are even deeper than I’ve identified.

I replied saying something like: “I know all about social anxiety,” and simply offering the support of understanding. I did understand how the situation she was facing would be incredibly scary and uncomfortable.

Her response was this: And when I say I have social anxiety I mean that I have it diagnosed, which I’m pretty sure Paula, you don’t have. Thanks Cynthia for the kind words, though.

I felt, well, I don’t know, angry. I mean I was just trying to say that I understand what she’s saying, it’s a scary world out there, but I was also angry because people place so much weight in a doctor’s diagnosis.

I have not been diagnosed with social anxiety. I will likely never be diagnosed with social anxiety. I’m shy, reticent, and apprehensive of communication, but technically I have never been diagnosed with social anxiety. I have never gone to a psychiatrist to tell them of my fear of going to the grocery store, walking on the bus, or even sitting in class. No, I’ve never told them any of that.

That doesn’t make any of what I experience less real. That doesn’t make the effect on my life any smaller. That doesn’t make the fear less intense.

Language is powerful, and for some of us it is perhaps that power that scares us. Language is so powerful I technically don’t have the right to say that I have social anxiety, and if I use any other term, it won’t seem the same, it won’t seem as severe.

That’s why I ignore the conventions, I tell people I suffer from social anxiety. My parents didn’t take me to a doctor because what’s the point? They would diagnose me, great? Would they do anything I couldn’t have done on my own. All they can really do is administer a sort of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, and I do plenty of that on my own. And I prefer being in control of it myself.

As a shy girl living in this big ol’ world I’m going to reserve the right to say I have social anxiety, because my problem is real and I refuse to let language dictate otherwise, I refuse to let other people dictate otherwise.

So every Friday night at 9 pm I settle down for an evening watching Stacy and Clinton make over not only the participants style but often also their outlook on life, and themselves. Stacy and Clinton are people who view style as a means for women to take control of their lives, and they say it’s really about an investment, investing time into yourself.

While most of us know that dressing well can lead to personal success of all kinds in the future, most people would likely say they don’t want to be defined by the clothes they wear, who they are is more important. And while I agree that who you are is more important, clothes can not only define you to other people, they can also define the way you think about yourself.

My mother works at a department store and has a pretty good sense of style. Ever since I’ve been in high school I’ve always wanted to dress well, but I did what so many What Not to Wear participants do, I wore sweaters to hide parts of my body I was uncomfortable with. Despite all the nice clothes I owned and the dreams I had of looking good, I just couldn’t bear to wear anything else.

My style transformation really didn’t start until last winter. Earlier that summer I had gotten a fantastic jacket, a white, knee length pea coat. It’s a beautiful jacket and I knew I had to wear it, along with my cloche hat that I had bought. Paired with knee high black boots and matching leather gloves I knew the outfit would look good, there was no way around that. But looking good meant I wasn’t inconspicuous, I was opening myself up to not only praise, but also criticism, I was also worried that it was too “flashy”, too “uptown” and preppy (at the time nobody on campus seemed to have pea coats in any colour other than black).

I wore that jacket once, then twice, and now I wear it all the time in late fall/early winter before I switch to my heavier black jacket for winter. It started with the jacket, but soon I was wearing more tight fitting clothes, clothing that fit me better, and eventually, finally, I was developing my own style.

Clothing did help me take control of my life, it was something I used to use to hide behind, and making bolder choices with my clothing meant I was facing fears. It also helped me become more confident. It’s easy to want to blend in and be inconspicuous, but once you open yourself up to praise as well as criticism, it also becomes more important that your personality comes through from behind the clothes, and you’re forced to face some of those fears you were hiding from. And dressing well helps you look more confident, and when people perceive you as being more confident they’re more likely to speak with you, trust you, etc.

And honestly, knowing you look good makes you that much more confident.

It’s not all perfect though, I do love the preppy, uptown look and am often nervous about what I wear to school, especially when I wear skirts or dresses. While skirts and dresses are normal to me and I would like to find more room for them in my closet, people see it as getting really dressed up, and I feel like I’m being judged, especially when I pair them with heels.

So clothing is still sometimes an issue for me. It’s not just my social anxiety but also low self esteem and issues with my body do make it difficult sometimes, but I try to use clothing as a way to not only exude confidence but also to boost my own self confidence when talking with people. It’s something to try.

Sitting on a city bus, then a Greyhound, then a train, and then another city bus gives one lots of time to think. And I know everyone does their best thinking in the shower, but I do mine in moving vehicles.

I was thinking about the fact that I’ve had plenty of really good experiences in my life. I’ve gotten to travel more than most people. I volunteered at a newspaper. I was a camera operator at Rogers Television. I did some training at a radio station. I’ve seen a taping of “Everybody Hates Chris”. I attended the G20! I’ve done some cool stuff and have a lot of knowledge about different things, but at a lot of these events I stayed quiet, or I’ve been quiet about them. They’re things most people don’t know about me.

Thinking, on the GO train, I realized that if I really want to be successful I really need to learn to network with these people, I need to learn to be outgoing, and to make people aware of accomplishments. Now I’m not saying everybody, not every single person needs to know, but more important people.

The single most difficult thing though is that while all of these experiences have been great, I have to seek out more. I should have gone to the IMPACT conference. I should go to the MUN conference, to the marketing conference, even if I’m going alone. And not only should I go, I should actually talk to people there.

I should, but I likely won’t. I have a lot of drive, a lot of determination, and really want to reach my goals, but there is only so much that I can do to face my fears. I don’t know how to network, I don’t know how to go to conferences alone, and I don’t have any idea how to be social. I’m going to work as hard as I can to face my fears, but I don’t think I can.

It’s a sad life sometimes, seeing these goals and knowing that your biggest obstacle is fear. It’s not my intelligence or my work ethic, it is just fear. Something you’re born with, something that no matter how hard you try to overcome will never go away, something that paralyzes you when you try to face it.

I want what I want and I will stop at nothing to get it, but I hope to find alternatives to doing some of the things that scare me most.

Last night I was taking part in a career night at our school, we had organized it as part of a group project for our leadership class. My job throughout the night was to take photos, I was delighted with this. Not only is photography a hobby of mine and something I not only love to do but would also like to improve on. The real reason though was because a camera makes me feel safe.

Photography, at least good photography, requires a certain amount of disregard for what people think, while everyone is sitting quietly, listening to the speaker, you’re walking around trying to get photos. While somebody is answering questions you’re trying to make sure the flash doesn’t hit straight in the their eyes. Sometimes you’re creeping on people who really don’t want their picture taken. It’s the exact opposite of what a shy person should be doing. But through my time at Imprint I’ve gotten used to it, and I’ve realized that as long as you’re holding a big camera in your hand, people will let you do anything. Some of it is still nerve wracking, but for whatever reason, it’s a safety zone.

Because when I’m holding a camera in my hands I have an excuse not to talk to you. I have an excuse to be standing alone in a corner. I have an excuse to be doing anything. I once went to a Taylor Swift concert alone, and I was terrified. I went, and I did enjoy myself, but I saw much of the concert through a 3″ Canon G11 screen. I was so scared and so nervous with two groups of teenage boys and girls beside me that all I did was take photos and/or videos all concert. By the end my battery was running out.

A camera is something for me to hide behind, but it doesn’t look so much like hiding as it does dedication to the photography. I’m sure some people can tell, but it is infinitely better to hide behind a camera than to shut down and answer every question with “I don’t know”.

Infinitely better.

I’m not encouraging everyone to take up photography, but what I am saying is that shutting down completely, or having an equally terrible reaction is bad. It’s a good idea to find something that can compensate for those times when you just need to hide and protect yourself.

I didn’t know how to face the world, I didn’t want to talk to anybody, and on the bus on the way to school the only thing I could think about was how I wanted to break down and cry and not see anybody. And for whatever reason I thought of what I would say if someone asked me what I was feeling right now, the answer I came up with wasn’t one I liked, but it was one that was startingly real. Because those are the moments when I begin to wonder.

What was I feeling? To be honest, those moments are the ones where I wonder if life is worth living, they’re the moments when I contemplate giving up, they’re the moments when I think I’m worthless. And perhaps it seems extreme for a moment of fear, but when you are so panic stricken so often, that feeling becomes tiring. Some days I just really don’t want to feel this way anymore.

But I can’t imagine my life without this. Today, and this entire week, would have been a million times less disastrous for me if I wasn’t so afraid of everyone, but what would I have accomplished? Sure I would have gone to class, maybe gotten a good grade on a few things, but would I have really done anything? Not really.

Yeah, I had bad day today, those happen, and unfortunately for me they can have dire consequences. It’s risky in a way. I could just as easily be in a program which requires no social interaction, yet my grades are based largely on the social interactions I have with people, and bad days can be very bad.

For anyone who suffers from debilatating shyness that feeling of not being able to face the world is all too common, and I don’t feel so bad about it, because once in a while I deserve a break too. Because facing one of your biggest fears everyday of your life is hard. Because nobody will ever understand the stress that it can bring into your life. Because no one will understand the embarassment you feel when you’re scared to do something so simple for others. Because its not something anybody understands if they haven’t been through it. Because self – development is hard, and I’m tired.

Because I’m doing my very best in this world.

Living life as somebody with social anxiety but a weird affinity for talking with people makes things quite interesting. I was thinking about it today because of an email I received from a professor, I would not be happy going into a profession that was mainly research and writing, I need a more dynamic career, something with more people to interact with.

This sounds incredibly counter intuitive, people scare me, some days I don’t want to leave my room because I’m so scared of them, why would I want a career involving this. Partially because my greatest fear is one of my greatest loves, but partly, maybe, because I’m addicted to the feeling I feel when I get over a fear. I’m addicted to fear itself.

There was a time in my life when I would have been content to hide in my room all day and not talk to anybody, but nowadays I can’t imagine that. Sometimes I want a break, yes. But I can’t even imagine living life without that feeling of fear. And I don’t just mean this because I’m used to the fear. I mean, yes, I can’t imagine living life not being scared of the cashier at the grocery store, but what I really mean is that intense fear that I get before doing something most shy people would never dream of, before walking into a Speech Communication class, before interviewing somebody for an article. When I do these things, the fear I feel takes over my entire body, I think about it for hours or days even, I agonize about it for days or weeks afterward, but I can’t imagine just constantly avoiding that fear, not doing these things. Something in them is more gratifying than the fear.

And I think that’s saying a lot. If I can find it in me to go through all that pain and misery for an interview, or a group activity, there is something underlying that I love. Whether its communication, journalism, pure self improvement, I don’t know, but I love something, a lot.

Of course I strive for self improvement almost every chance I get. It’s incredibly important to me.

And you know what? I’m proud of myself, I really am. Because its embarrassing to even admit to shyness sometimes, its embarrassing to tell a friend you don’t even want to go to the store alone. That’s embarrassing. But not only do I admit to it, not only am I farther behind than most people, I work hard at it every single day. And there are people in this world who work hard, many who work harder than me, but honestly, few can understand the kind of stress I feel. Every single day of my life I face my biggest fear in the world, and I persevere through it, it’s a stress different than most. I’m not worried about putting food on the table or a roof over my head, and I won’t compare to that kind of stress, but I deal with all the same assignments everyone else does, except every one of them induces 10 times more fear and stress in my life.

The thing about social anxiety is that its often a hidden disease, I hate when people look at me and tell me I’m not shy. I have a friend who is shy who tells me I’m not nearly as shy as she is because she wouldn’t do the things I do. My fear is crippling, if you were one of those friends who had to escort me to an event just so I would go, you would see that I am horrible. Before walking in to Health Services I will stand there, go over what I’m going to say, ask questions about it, ask if I really have to go in. I agonize. There are two key differences between her and me, the first being that I have friends that try and be supportive but that also force me to overcome fears. The second being that I force myself to overcome fears. And my fears are just as or even worse than hers, but somewhere I find the strength to face them.

But that’s not easy. And if you are a shy person living in a world where being outspoken and outgoing is valued, you’re going to have to work hard at getting there. Don’t change who you are, even if I become more comfortable, I will never be the type to raise my hand in class, it’s just not what I do. It’s not about suddenly becoming loud and outgoing, it’s about becoming comfortable in who you are, and what you have to say, and in your life.

The fear will likely never go away, but it will dull a little bit, and you will feel better and better about facing it. So do something that is difficult for you, do something that scares you out of your mind, because I promise you, the feeling of accomplishment you feel after that will be like nothing else you will ever feel in your life. And nobody, nobody, can take that away from you. So what if other people don’t have these “dumb” fears, they have other fears, and I bet they don’t face them, or at least not nearly as often. Strength is not in being fearless, it comes in giving everything you’ve got to overcome that fear, because at the end of the day, shy is just a feeling, and nobody ever even has to know.

Of course my body filled with dread, fear coursed through my veins, my mind thought of how horrible it would be, I have never been to a KPK meeting, I have no idea what it would be like. I didn’t really want to go, I had plans to head home to Whitby that night anyway. I sent an email to the former President of the Polish club asking him why I should go, I really needed to be convinced.

He sent me back a response about how it will create a riff in Polonia between the younger generation and the older one, etc. Well it was a good point and I was sold on the fact that it was a good idea to go.

Then came yesterday evening. I had already secured a ride there with my brother on Wednesday but needed to remind him that he was to pick me up. I spent all day debating whether or not to go. I knew I should go. If I didn’t, myself and at least three other people would be very disappointed, I would be giving in to a fear, and it would complete my epic week. I knew I should go.

Still, my week had been long and tiring. It was exhausting in general, but not just that, I had met about a million new people and spent half the week in “leadership” positions. All of these I was very afraid of. I can face my fears, but man does that take a toll on a person. It’s hard to work that hard at something every single day. Emotionally, I’m exhausted.

So I sat at my kitchen table debating with myself, knowing that I was using the exhaustion as an excuse and was only considering not going because of the fear I felt. My roommate came upstairs and I made him help me decide, I’m not sure that it helped. He certainly tried, but he tried to get me to make the decision, and I just wasn’t going to.

This happens to me fairly often, I put off the decisions so long that they’re a no because that’s what I want the decision to be, because I’m scared. I knew if I didn’t call my brother by around 5 pm then he wouldn’t give me a ride, so if I could just put it off until then….And suddenly I made the decision to go. Where it came from, I’m not exactly sure, I called my brother and told him he needed to pick me up, and that was that, I had to go.

As I was making quesadillas for dinner I kept thinking: fear is normal, fear is not what makes you weak. But then that sentence was always completed with: You’re weak if you don’t face your fears. Bravery isn’t being fearless, it’s facing the fears you have. This made me feel terrible for not wanting to go. And perhaps it had something to do with my final decision, maybe not.

What it likely was was that Polonia means more to me than my fear could. I care enough about it to go through that kind of fear to get something done for it. It was likely also that I didn’t want people to be disappointed in me. And also, that I just wanted to go.

I was terrified, so scared, but I went. Once I got there it wasn’t so bad, but before hand, I was shaking, sweating, nervous as hell. But I had made the decision to go, I had to go. Once I got there it was pretty much too late to turn back.

Despite my fears, anxieties, and nervousness, I ended my week off on a high note. It was an epic week which took a lot out of me, but I also accomplished a lot. It was scary, and difficult, but the most important thing is that I did it.