paindrivenlife
Member
Cool title huh? I felt like writing this out, so if you want to read it, I'd welcome opinions.
I've had panic attacks and anxiety disorder for most of my life. I'm 28 now and have been suffering from it since my father's death when I was 8...so do the math. The horrors of agoraphobia kicked in later and compounded the problem. Because of that, I've been a step behind or even completely inept with any semblance of social grace. That being said, it wasn't until high school that I even began to formulate what I thought was a coherent plan for talking to or socializing with girls.
Note: I thought they were coherent and reasonable plans. Imagine being a senior in high school, 3 friends in the whole world to your name, and spending your time in class composing a love note to give to the friend of someone you have set your sights on. The best I could manage was a two-week "relationship" with the girl who had the reputation as the school slut. (By the way, she was a sweet girl and I do not for a second think she was really a slut. Truth be told, it was the low self esteem she had from being thought of as a slut that even allowed me to talk to her.)
By college, I had reached the elusive status of approaching, and even talking to women. Of course, my problems precluded me from, say, spending a ton of time on campus. I went to a party of two here and there, but it usually seemed to be a waste of time. After all, I didn't drink or smoke and was a generally a geek of a guy. And the previously mentioned approaches usually consisted of me telling her hi, asking what her major was, asking her if she had a boyfriend and if not, did she want to go out. Yes, that was actually what I did. As you can imagine, it never went well. So there I was, a 22 year old virgin who had, at most, snuck fleeting kisses with the old high school outcast.
It only got worse. Fast forward to today. As shame, bitterness, and depression over my situation have entrenched themselves into my soul, I have had 6 or 7 encounters with equally desperate women from the net, and various unhealthy flings. I've been told that I simply "look creepy" and have literally had the police called on me upon simply entering a building. I've had lively conversations with many an already-taken woman and utter failure with the others. My first real girlfriend broke up with me after two weeks. I don't think she could handle my illnesses. Go figure.
So far I'm losing the game at about 234-12 at halftime.
I've had panic attacks and anxiety disorder for most of my life. I'm 28 now and have been suffering from it since my father's death when I was 8...so do the math. The horrors of agoraphobia kicked in later and compounded the problem. Because of that, I've been a step behind or even completely inept with any semblance of social grace. That being said, it wasn't until high school that I even began to formulate what I thought was a coherent plan for talking to or socializing with girls.
Note: I thought they were coherent and reasonable plans. Imagine being a senior in high school, 3 friends in the whole world to your name, and spending your time in class composing a love note to give to the friend of someone you have set your sights on. The best I could manage was a two-week "relationship" with the girl who had the reputation as the school slut. (By the way, she was a sweet girl and I do not for a second think she was really a slut. Truth be told, it was the low self esteem she had from being thought of as a slut that even allowed me to talk to her.)
By college, I had reached the elusive status of approaching, and even talking to women. Of course, my problems precluded me from, say, spending a ton of time on campus. I went to a party of two here and there, but it usually seemed to be a waste of time. After all, I didn't drink or smoke and was a generally a geek of a guy. And the previously mentioned approaches usually consisted of me telling her hi, asking what her major was, asking her if she had a boyfriend and if not, did she want to go out. Yes, that was actually what I did. As you can imagine, it never went well. So there I was, a 22 year old virgin who had, at most, snuck fleeting kisses with the old high school outcast.
It only got worse. Fast forward to today. As shame, bitterness, and depression over my situation have entrenched themselves into my soul, I have had 6 or 7 encounters with equally desperate women from the net, and various unhealthy flings. I've been told that I simply "look creepy" and have literally had the police called on me upon simply entering a building. I've had lively conversations with many an already-taken woman and utter failure with the others. My first real girlfriend broke up with me after two weeks. I don't think she could handle my illnesses. Go figure.
So far I'm losing the game at about 234-12 at halftime.
