What Social Anxiety Feels Like Physically

Social anxiety permeates my life.

Like an allergic reaction, its side effects appear as soon as contact occurs. My heart races and my fingers go numb. Whatever business I came to handle seems suddenly insignificant, as the idea of socializing constricts my throat. The feeling is so disorienting. Intoxicated from the attention and smiles, I stumble through my words sloppily and pray I don’t puke. The harder I try to articulate, the less sense I make.

Eventually, I just mirror — you nod your head, so do I. You look concerned, so do I. The more I mimic the more at ease my audience is. They begin to like me, assuming my grins and giggles are genuine. Little do they know my friendly face is a defense mechanism, like the vibrant hue of a poisonous frog. The sight is alluring, beckoning the ignorant, creating a sense of false calm. Make contact, however, and you’ll never reach your hand out again.

None of these things are intentional; I really do long for meaningful friendship. It’s not that I hate the act of socializing, I just hate the side effects.

I used to love peaches as a kid, but once I realized they were giving me hives, I steered clear for my health.

I used to be a social butterfly, overly emotional but lovable nonetheless. Gradually, though, like the slow erode of sandstone as it presses its face to the river, My brilliance dulled and my confidence softened. I learned that socializing was a trigger for me. For my emotional health and stability, I needed to avoid it at all costs.

This is, of course, is impossible if I want to function as an adult, so I found a compromise within myself. I decided this was a trigger I could shrink if I worked on it slowly. I started out socializing with to one or two people at a time. It was still a daunting task, but I could handle it mentally. Eventually this got easier, and I worked my way up to socializing with a larger group of people. Now I can make small talk with co-workers and tutor kids I’ve never met. I still feel my looming anxiety, but I find solace in the fact that I get a little better each day. Like I always say, appreciate your small wins!

When I grew up, I ate a peach just to see the reaction. Nothing happened, and I realized I’d been nervous for no reason. These days, I feel the fear of socializing, but I try it every chance I get. Sometimes I leave with the outcome I expected, but many times I realize the fear was there for nothing.