Hi everyone! It’s been a minute!

I have been writing and rewriting a post for the blog over the last week, but it hasn’t felt completely right. What I set out to do was write about managing social anxiety at work and go through all the tips and suggestions I could think of. I’ve picked up a lot in different rounds of therapy and the realm of clinical psychology, and I thought it would be useful to share what could help. However, giving out all of those tips when I’m struggling to implement them myself seemed a bit disingenuous! Social anxiety is difficult to speak openly about for me because I have internalised a lot of shame about it. But…this is why I write! I write to gather some courage and find myself on the page. So instead of the tips – I guess we have a much less structured, much more honest post about just that: finding the words for social anxiety.

Starting a new job has got to be one of the most anxiety-inducing things in the book. The feeling of being inferior, the uncertainty, the desire to be perfect…it all combines to make an already challenging adjustment even more uncomfortable. As you may or may not know, I started a new job as a research assistant at the end of September. I knew my social anxiety would be triggered by the change, but I had no idea just how much. It feels scary having to admit to people who perhaps may not know me so well how I can sometimes struggle saying hi to someone in the corridor, or not knowing the ‘right thing’ to say in a conversation, or worrying excessively about a random interaction I have with a colleague. I thought I was managing it alright until I ended up dissolving into a panic attack during a meeting.

The thing about anxiety is that it tends to come in waves; I hit a good patch for a while in the summer and I was trying to cling on to that! It makes the ‘dip’ feel even deeper than it is.

I never quite know how to describe social anxiety. It feels like a sinister shadow that I’m constantly living under. The ins and outs of it are so intricate and painful that I just cannot fathom that some people live their lives without it! Thinking about it with my psychologist hat on actually proves quite difficult because I don’t believe that the cognitive-behavioural model goes the whole way in explaining it. But I’ll leave the theory talk to another time, because this is more about my experience…

I have always had concerns about how other people are perceiving me. Low self-esteem can really attune you to negativity and anticipation of rejection. But I don’t think it showed its true face until I first went to university. In amongst a whole lot of loss and a complete breakdown in my mental health, social anxiety found a very healthy breeding ground. I couldn’t talk – literally, I mean, couldn’t talk – to people. I would stutter, and struggle to find words to say or topics to talk about – and then my mind would race with a million thoughts such as whether the person in front of me wanted to be talking to me at all. So I’d mess up even more, struggle to hold conversations, and then leave situations to save myself more pain. I was terrified of going to college events, meeting up with new friends, even speaking to my coursemates! I just wanted desperately to enjoy it, be myself and fit in with others like me. Perhaps that was always unlikely in the depths of depression, so seeing people in any capacity at all had me sweating. I would have a panic attack after saying ‘hi’ to someone on the quad. I just had to shut myself away and avoid everything. I needed lots of emotional and physical distance – after seeing someone, I would need at least a few hours to mentally recuperate from the exhaustion of carrying the anxiety. That post-interaction energy drop had me avoiding having the interactions in the first place! It really hurt, because hiding away was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted my university experience to broaden my horizons and allow me to feel like I was part of something. I wanted to join clubs and societies, I wanted to go to all of my lectures and work really hard and go library-hopping and grocery shopping with friends. But I couldn’t. None of that seemed possible.

Safe to say – it’s pretty debilitating! I think as my nervous system started to work out saying hi to people wouldn’t end in a gruesome end, I began to ease up just a little and started to see friends a bit more. It was still excruciatingly difficult, though. I would have to write bullet points on post-it notes before I saw them to make sure I always had something I could talk to them about. That there were never any awkward silences, and the other person could never suss out that I was probably weeing myself with anxiety. I struggled to lean in to natural conversation, and punished myself in many ways for it. The biggest punishment, though, was the fact that I could never feel like I could get beyond a conversation – I couldn’t understand social dynamics and so I couldn’t join in with what everyone else was doing. I was simply too frightened of the uncertainty. That’s how it went, day in and day out. If I had a tutorial one day, I would wake up thinking about how I would speak in that small room. On the way to lectures, I’d be close to tears thinking about talking to my lovely coursemates at the lecture theatre. With every interaction – even buying chips from the kebab van – I was agonised. Towards the end of my second year, I was starting to open up to doing a few more creative activities – especially when COVID hit. For me…it was kind of a blessing to be able to do many things online. I felt like I had less pressure on the screen. A mild positive from the whole ordeal – but I can’t deny it let me fall back on my friendships and learn that they weren’t going anywhere.

We didn’t get round to facing it properly, I don’t think, until I finally had some CBT in my third year. A lot of the work we started off doing was centred around how I was currently and the goals that I had. We then explored how my beliefs were influencing my behaviours, and whether we could try to change that. Saying yes to an offer of a friendly walk, or a chat in the kitchen…we started trying to get me to stop putting all of this crushing weight on relatively short interactions and expecting the worst possible outcomes. I would have to do some thought challenging, and work on having that social interaction everyday – not avoiding it. After a few months, we managed to get me to stop using the post-it notes 😆My conversation fears started to subside a little.

Post-uni, I think the world of work really felt more comfortable. Maybe it’s something about having the slightly more professional distance from others, but I thrived a lot more because I felt I had such less pressure on myself. I wasn’t the sad, loner girl at university anymore – I had the chance to rescript it. But finding the words for social anxiety means also finding a way to communicate how it persists, even when slightly better. There were still some tough moments. Like eating at a lunch table with others. Like going to a café with a bunch of colleagues. Like speaking but a whole tumble of words coming out of mouth – none which I was trying to say. I dressed it a little more in my natural personality though, calling myself awkward and clumsy to try and laugh things off. That internalised shame – what I talked about the start? That was still there.

And that brings us to know, or thereabouts. Over 2022, especially the more I have delved into the poetry community, I have found a bit more confidence in conversations with strangers, friends and colleagues alike. Having something I am passionate about is giving me some self-assurance and identity, so I’m not feeling quite as adrift as I was back at uni. But here we are, two months into a new job, finding it extra tricky. New people always make the social anxiety feel more vulnerable again. It’s the being professional but not too robotic, wanting to form bonds but struggling to read social dynamics, getting to grips with all sorts of new hi in the hallway moments.

I feel like the same stuttering mess I was back at uni. I can’t concentrate very well, I get the shivers every time someone comes into our office and I feel unable to hold proper conversations. Just this morning, I was struggling to order my hot chocolate at the counter. It feels like some gigantic steps back – even though I know that it really isn’t. It is just a tough situation: a new situation. One I need to acclimatise and get to grips to, and figure out how on earth to feel like me again. My long list of tips and suggestions for managing it felt like a good way to structure those things in for myself, but as I kept writing it, I was really struggling to implement any of them. They were helping for 5 minutes, and then I was right back to feeling shaky and overwhelmed when speaking to anybody. It frustrates me because though the social anxiety is a part of me, it’s not all of me! I’m expressive, I’m friendly, I’m eager and hard-working. It is so upsetting to not be able to be most of those things right now.

So true to myself, I have written a poem about the internal warzone that is social anxiety to me. This encapsulates all of my experiences so far, as well as the voice of internalised shame which has such a strong grip. I hope it resonates with you. This is called ‘say something’.

I.
eager eyes
cheeks stretching bare
tentative smile
hands clasped in prayer

eyes peeled
nervous stare
jittering knee
throat aching for air

eyes red
stomach clawed in
jilting mind
wearing thin

II.
Do they whisper?
Do they tilt their head 
with pity?
Do they start conversations
or do they end them?
Do they want me to go
or do they want me to join them?
What can I do to not be a burden - 
do they want me
or not?

III.
to go or to stay
to reply or to ignore
I want no questions asked
I want to hide
I want to laugh
I want a sign
I want doors shut
I want to end the pain
I want to scream so loud
they’ll all stay away
The confusion is deafening
as the thump of my heart
in earnest to find
where in God's name 
I can start.

IV.
Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be:
somersaulting as I answer the phone,
too scared to tell the man my order is wrong,
going to the toilet for two minutes of calm,
mustering the strength to go out, carry on,
cartwheeling, jump-jacking performance
to be funny, to be notorious,
wanting to be visible but hating the spotlight,
crying after meet-ups in measure of my plight,
not eating in front of you - I’ll definitely spill it, 
skin flaming, nausea sitting
deep as the despair in my bones,
leaping out of my way in the way of good books,
despising the waste of the space that I took. 

When someone asks if I'm alright, I just smile and mean it.
The answer is never what they want
and I’m afraid to not mask it.
In truth, every second,
the freedom of my mind crushes
against the weighted planes of my knotted chest
It cannot greet the world everyday -
but the world everyday
urges me, a mouse on a string,
do it: say something.

V.
say something
say something
say something
God, just say it

you useless idiot.

I guess what I have tried to find in talking about my experience with social anxiety, is the words that would adequately convey just how distressing and far-reaching it is into every aspect of life. Part of this has been just trying to find the words for myself…but now that I have given it a go…perhaps I can find the words to talk to other people about it. I don’t yet know how things are going to play out at my job, but I owe it to myself not to give up! The journey to staying well is never going to be linear, and that really sucks sometimes – but I know there is an up, and with some self-compassion and support, hopefully up we will go. I hope you enjoyed reading this post. If there is something in there that rings true with you, I do send you my solidarity and hopes. There will be more than what there currently is, I promise.

Love,

SS xx

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