Overcoming Social Anxiety: A Prescription-Free Approach

About a year ago I wrote the following about socializing with other women:

After a social encounter, I replay the conversation and scene over and over and over in my head and wonder if I should have said that or if that hug was awkward. Did I say too much or too little? Was I weird? Overbearing? Hyper? Bitchier than usual? Could that other woman tell that I intensely dislike her? Did she understand that comment or does she think I’m racist?

I’d talked this over with a friend before I wrote that and she surprised me when she said she felt the same way. I see her as a very confident, I’ve-got-my-shit-together lady and wouldn’t have guessed this inner dialog plagued her, too. Once I hung it out there, I got a lot of feedback on that post and it still attracts visitors who Google about social anxiety. I was reassured by the “me too!” comments. I was able to see this problem as common. I didn’t feel alone with the voices in my head that tell me how awful and awkward and uncool I really am.

It also made me sad. Why are so many kick-ass ladies struggling with social anxiety? What is going on in our heads that we can’t shut down that thinking and just be happy we got to spend time with our friends and colleagues? Shouldn’t knowing that she’s obsessing and she’s worrying and she’s panicking give us good cause to take a deep breath and tell those evil inner voices to just fuck right off?

I needed to give myself a break here. So much of what I do day to day as a mother and a woman is scrutinized and pored over. Did I sound smart handling that situation? Am I wearing the right thing? Is my hair outdated? Are my kids in the right preschool? Am I feeding them right? Do I sound like my mother? How can I do more/better/perfect? This list could go on forever. “Am I good enough?” can be on constant loop in my head. I know I judge others and I assume they’re judging me and then I turn in on myself and do it some more! I needed to learn to recognize under-the-microscope, self-analyzing behavior and stamp it out.

Aside from picturing a giant foot crushing the microscope, I try to categorize the anxious thoughts. I use a strategy I learned when I sold Mary Kay in a previous life:

1. Do it.
2. Delegate it.
3. Dump it.

Isn’t that genius? I can sort a lot of my life this way. It’s super for weeding out the unproductive thoughts and getting down to the real meat and potatoes of my anxiety. What is truly bothering me? Is it something I can change? Do I need to take action right now? Or should I just toss this bit of anxiety into the garbage?

I’ve been seeing old friends lately and have found that much of that anxiety has dissipated. It’s not gone entirely, but I am able to push the anxiety-laden thoughts to the back of my head where they can be sorted. I remind myself that I am the only me I’ve got and they keep inviting me to join them, so I must not be that bad. (Or, I am that bad but they like to invite me so they have someone to make fun of after I leave. Which is probably why I leave last. I won’t tell you I’m cured.) I also think about how many people are suffering with this enough that they turn to Google. I believe it’s getting pretty serious when you get Google involved.

This isn’t the answer for ridding ourselves of all social anxiety. I think we need some degree of unease to keep our egos in check. A little reflection is a good thing. But wringing hands, crying, hating myself and avoiding social interaction was just too much and, as it turns out, unnecessary. This means I get to look forward to lunch dates and Tupperware party invitations (seriously. I need some new Tupperware but I don’t want to host a party. Do it for me and give me your free stuff. Thanks.) and my fifteen-year class reunion this summer. Wee! People who remember me thin and haven’t seen me in years! That’s like The Greatest Recipe For Social Anxiety Ever. Bring it on. I’m so going to kick some ass.