SilverSorrow
Member
Hello. I'm new here. You can call me Silver. I'm a 38 year old male. I was diagnosed with Avoidant Personality Disorder when I was 26, although, in retrospect, I have had the disorder, all of my life.
I'd like to vent about the thing that frustrates me the most about my own AvPD. I'm curious to know if anyone else suffers, in the same way.
I am my own worst enemy, in a number of ways, but the way that irritates me the most is what I would describe as "self-cancellation." Self-cancellation is when you avoid doing the positive things that make up who you are as a person. Not only are they positive things, but they are things that you —the REAL you— enjoys doing! (or you enjoyed them at one time) Quite simply: You avoid being you!
To better illustrate my meaning, here are a few personal examples:
I am an artist who does not create.
I am an author who does not write.
I am a bibliophile (bookworm) who does not read.
I am a happy person who does not laugh.
I am an interesting person who is boring.
I despise all of my negative qualities, yet resent all of my positive qualities.
I'm quite an intelligent person. What few friends I have, have nicknamed me "professor." Sometimes, that's a good thing; sometimes, it's a bit of a put-down. It depends on who is saying it. The point is that even though I know my truest friends admire and respect my intelligence, I regularly downplay my smarts. I'll often tell them I don't know the answer to a question, even when I actually do know the answer. I don't want them to see how smart I really am.
The above examples are just a few, out of a long list, of my oxymoronic behaviors.
What can you do when it hurts you to do the things that you love doing, while simultaneously, it does equal damage to yourself when you avoid being yourself?
I am sitting here typing this right now, on a Saturday night, because I can't bring myself to go out and do something even semi-social. There is a big part of me inside that is screaming at me, "Let me out! I want to meet some new people! I want to have fun!" While on the other hand, the other half of me would just be mortified if I were to go do something social. It's like playing tug of war with oneself.
If I stay at home, I am depressed, lonely, and bored.
If I would go out to a bar or club, I'd be just as depressed, lonely, and bored, if not MORE so! (I don't drink, so bars and clubs aren't my thing anyway, but I could just "hang out," if I had the nerve to.) Is it really worth my risking an anxiety attack? (My anxiety attacks are quite horrible experiences for myself. I have journaled over 50 cumulative physical and emotional symptoms! Ironically, the majority of my symptoms are internal, and therefore seldom noticeable to others. However, that makes it no easier for me.)
A better example is there is art class I am interested in taking. I've been curious about that particular class, for several years. I can't afford it, financially, but even if I could, what emotional price would I have to pay for participating? I'm not sure I could afford the latter.
My personal quote to describe how it feels is, "If the poison does not kill you, the antidote will."
I have made many attempts to "put myself out there," in one way or another. They all have failed —quite miserably— and more often than not, it was due to EXTERNAL cause and effect, as opposed to self-sabotage. I've tried a support group, several church singles groups, a trivia team, etc.
Church groups, surprisingly, were the worst. I was ostracized twice because I have this emotional disability and am unable to work for a living. I made the effort to reach out, but they didn't reciprocate. I've run into a lot of adverse reactions from non-religious people as well. I guess people just aren't accepting of people who are unable to work, regardless of the reason or the legitimacy, thereof. Here's what really disturbs me: It's likely if I told people I had cancer (I don't) they'd react in compassion and sympathy, but if people learn I have an emotional disability, they react like I am Frankenstein's monster. Cancer = "You're normal. Can I give you a hug?" / AvPD = "You're not normal! Get the bleep away from me, you freak!"
As I get older, I get wiser, and I adapt somewhat, but with every adaptation, I often gain a new symptom. Living with AvPD is usually "two steps forward and one step back."
I'd like to vent about the thing that frustrates me the most about my own AvPD. I'm curious to know if anyone else suffers, in the same way.
I am my own worst enemy, in a number of ways, but the way that irritates me the most is what I would describe as "self-cancellation." Self-cancellation is when you avoid doing the positive things that make up who you are as a person. Not only are they positive things, but they are things that you —the REAL you— enjoys doing! (or you enjoyed them at one time) Quite simply: You avoid being you!
To better illustrate my meaning, here are a few personal examples:
I am an artist who does not create.
I am an author who does not write.
I am a bibliophile (bookworm) who does not read.
I am a happy person who does not laugh.
I am an interesting person who is boring.
I despise all of my negative qualities, yet resent all of my positive qualities.
I'm quite an intelligent person. What few friends I have, have nicknamed me "professor." Sometimes, that's a good thing; sometimes, it's a bit of a put-down. It depends on who is saying it. The point is that even though I know my truest friends admire and respect my intelligence, I regularly downplay my smarts. I'll often tell them I don't know the answer to a question, even when I actually do know the answer. I don't want them to see how smart I really am.
The above examples are just a few, out of a long list, of my oxymoronic behaviors.
What can you do when it hurts you to do the things that you love doing, while simultaneously, it does equal damage to yourself when you avoid being yourself?
I am sitting here typing this right now, on a Saturday night, because I can't bring myself to go out and do something even semi-social. There is a big part of me inside that is screaming at me, "Let me out! I want to meet some new people! I want to have fun!" While on the other hand, the other half of me would just be mortified if I were to go do something social. It's like playing tug of war with oneself.
If I stay at home, I am depressed, lonely, and bored.
If I would go out to a bar or club, I'd be just as depressed, lonely, and bored, if not MORE so! (I don't drink, so bars and clubs aren't my thing anyway, but I could just "hang out," if I had the nerve to.) Is it really worth my risking an anxiety attack? (My anxiety attacks are quite horrible experiences for myself. I have journaled over 50 cumulative physical and emotional symptoms! Ironically, the majority of my symptoms are internal, and therefore seldom noticeable to others. However, that makes it no easier for me.)
A better example is there is art class I am interested in taking. I've been curious about that particular class, for several years. I can't afford it, financially, but even if I could, what emotional price would I have to pay for participating? I'm not sure I could afford the latter.
My personal quote to describe how it feels is, "If the poison does not kill you, the antidote will."
I have made many attempts to "put myself out there," in one way or another. They all have failed —quite miserably— and more often than not, it was due to EXTERNAL cause and effect, as opposed to self-sabotage. I've tried a support group, several church singles groups, a trivia team, etc.
Church groups, surprisingly, were the worst. I was ostracized twice because I have this emotional disability and am unable to work for a living. I made the effort to reach out, but they didn't reciprocate. I've run into a lot of adverse reactions from non-religious people as well. I guess people just aren't accepting of people who are unable to work, regardless of the reason or the legitimacy, thereof. Here's what really disturbs me: It's likely if I told people I had cancer (I don't) they'd react in compassion and sympathy, but if people learn I have an emotional disability, they react like I am Frankenstein's monster. Cancer = "You're normal. Can I give you a hug?" / AvPD = "You're not normal! Get the bleep away from me, you freak!"
As I get older, I get wiser, and I adapt somewhat, but with every adaptation, I often gain a new symptom. Living with AvPD is usually "two steps forward and one step back."
I usually do not leave the house for weeks at the time because I just can't face that sometimes awful cruel world out of doors. You're right, people don't understand when you are suffering with any kind of social disorder. Only those who have taken a walk in your shoes can even come close to understanding how the shoe feels. :!: 
