My grandfather used to be a social phobic from 1940 till 1970 (10 to 30 years old), he said to me that he couldn't use the phone because he didn't know when to speak and he used to speak at the wrong time!
And he used to be very ashamed of everything.
His father was very poor and he didn't have even shoes, so at Winter time he used to piss at his cold feet not to froze because of the snow, while waiting for his teacher to arrive at school.
And all students used to laugh at him. He said to me that he couldn't look people at the eyes.
When the 2ww came, he had to work all day making clothes, he used to be a taylor.
He had a job and he didn't need to speak with anyone, a social phobic's perfect life.
He was fine with that for a year, but not more.
Because he couldn't stand working so hard and being so fucking poor, he told me that every night of the Winter he and his brothers needed to drink almost pure alcohol to sleep because of the cold, without that they would be shaking awaked until morning.
So when thw war ended he went to the "big city" with all his Social Phobia screaming at him, and he had only one thought in mind. The thought that he would be so rich, that he would give all food and heat that his family needed.
He earned money from year to year, and ten years later, he could take all his family from poverty.
And he said to me that maybe social phobia isn't such a bad thing.
He said to me:
"If you could focus all your despair, sadness and angry at one thing that you really want from life! You will simple get it, it couldn't be different! But I've never tried to fix SA! I was cured I don't know how."
I think we have just too much comfort.
And he used to be very ashamed of everything.
His father was very poor and he didn't have even shoes, so at Winter time he used to piss at his cold feet not to froze because of the snow, while waiting for his teacher to arrive at school.
And all students used to laugh at him. He said to me that he couldn't look people at the eyes.
When the 2ww came, he had to work all day making clothes, he used to be a taylor.
He had a job and he didn't need to speak with anyone, a social phobic's perfect life.
He was fine with that for a year, but not more.
Because he couldn't stand working so hard and being so fucking poor, he told me that every night of the Winter he and his brothers needed to drink almost pure alcohol to sleep because of the cold, without that they would be shaking awaked until morning.
So when thw war ended he went to the "big city" with all his Social Phobia screaming at him, and he had only one thought in mind. The thought that he would be so rich, that he would give all food and heat that his family needed.
He earned money from year to year, and ten years later, he could take all his family from poverty.
And he said to me that maybe social phobia isn't such a bad thing.
He said to me:
"If you could focus all your despair, sadness and angry at one thing that you really want from life! You will simple get it, it couldn't be different! But I've never tried to fix SA! I was cured I don't know how."
I think we have just too much comfort.