this_portrait
Well-known member
This is kinda long, but I feel the need to get this out there. It's something that I've observed about myself for a while now, and these are just some thoughts I have on that observation.
Sometimes I think that I shouldn’t be complaining, that I should just shut up and count my blessings, because there are so many people, sufferers of social anxiety or not, who would kill to have my life. When people give me the same old line, “You should be happy because you’re young, attractive, smart, creative, and have a lot going for you,” I can’t help but think, “Yeah, you’re right. I practically have it made, and here I am not really appreciating any of it.”
There are a few people with social anxiety who are like me, who are somehow able to trudge through life despite their illness. We can go to school; we can work; we can perform basic errands like going to the store for groceries, talking on the phone, and saying basic things to the cashier who rings us up wherever we go. We may have little to no friends and not a good support system, and we may freak out over various little things and have trouble giving speeches to classes or colleagues, but somehow, we’ve managed to get past a lot of our anxieties and reach a point where we’ve succeeded at various things in life.
But there are so many people with social anxiety who are not like that, who haven’t achieved even half of the successes as the other group. These people are the ones who typically drop out of school; who can’t hold down a job; who have a hard time even leaving the house a lot of the time. I really feel for this large amount of people. I know that if I never would have pushed through a lot of situations that made me anxious, if I would’ve let my SA completely take over, then I would be in the same position as them. I wouldn’t be sitting in this apartment right now; I would be back at my house in my hometown, because I would’ve dropped out long ago. I was able to push through things despite my SA peaking.
And yet here I am feeling miserable, like my life isn’t complete. I sit around feeling sorry for myself, wishing that I had a lot more than what I currently do have, and here are these people who would kill to have my life. Not just people who suffer from SA, either. I grew up in a working class family, yet my mother sent me to one of the better schools in town so that I wouldn’t have to deal with all the bullsh*t that went on in the public schools there (let’s just say they aren’t the greatest). She struggled to pay my tuition on time, and would use almost all of her income tax money to pay for it. For years we lived in an apartment in this neighborhood that eventually went to sh*t once they changed landlords and started taking in Section 8 tenants.
Even though I felt uncomfortable living like that throughout childhood, it wasn’t that bad. It only seemed that way because I was surrounded by mostly kids who were even more privileged than me, and even then many of them had their problems. Just because their parents made more money than mine, doesn’t mean anything. Still, I don’t know too many other people from the same socioeconomic status as me who got the chance to have a better life than their parents. I’m very fortunate to have a mother who cared about my future and who tried everything she could to make sure I would turn out all right and make something of myself. Even though my father was a pain to live with because of his drinking and bar-hopping, I am lucky that I at least had a father figure in my life who wasn’t abusive to me as a child. He was a rather lousy father, but he wasn’t the worst, and at least he stuck around after the accidental pregnancy.
So many people without SA would love to have my life. So many people with SA would love to have my life. I’ve been reading books and blogs about people who suffer from other mental illnesses, and I feel grateful that I don’t have what they have. Here are these people who have been suffering from such bad mood disorders for years, and they’re on medication for it. You know what drove me to finally turn to Prozac as a last resort? A goddamn boy. A BOY, of all things. Here are all these people who are in agony from their own mental hell, and the one thing that drove me to hell and f**ked me up good was a relationship gone wrong. When you compare my demise to that of many others, mine looks rather pathetic.
And still there are so many people with SA, both older and younger than me, who have yet to experience a relationship. Many of them might not ever get the chance. They want to experience the very same things I got to experience for 11 months so badly, and here I am feeling like **** after having the opportunity to experience a relationship for the first time in my life.
You see, I’m greedy. It doesn’t matter that I have brains, beauty, education, creativity, and that I’ve finally gotten to experience a relationship. I want more than that. I want friends I can hang out with. I want those people I can interact with on Facebook all the time. I want the boyfriend who will never leave me and I’ll never leave him. I want so much more, and here are so many people who would kill to have even half of what I already have. Hell, some people never even get the opportunity to go to therapy for their problems, even though they could desperately use it.
I’m well aware of all of this. I know that I’m more privileged and spoiled than lots of people, and there are others who are more privileged and spoiled than me in various ways. I know I’m greedy and that I want more than what I already have. I feel pathetic sometimes for feeling like my life is hell when it could be so much worse. Does that make me feel any better, though? No. Comparing my life to those who are more worse off than me doesn’t make me feel better about myself at all. It makes me feel glad that I’m not in a worse position, and I feel sympathetic to those who are in worse positions, but it doesn’t make me feel high on life. It doesn’t make me feel like my problems are less important.
I guess it’s good that I’m aware of these things, even though it doesn’t make me feel any better about my life.
Sometimes I think that I shouldn’t be complaining, that I should just shut up and count my blessings, because there are so many people, sufferers of social anxiety or not, who would kill to have my life. When people give me the same old line, “You should be happy because you’re young, attractive, smart, creative, and have a lot going for you,” I can’t help but think, “Yeah, you’re right. I practically have it made, and here I am not really appreciating any of it.”
There are a few people with social anxiety who are like me, who are somehow able to trudge through life despite their illness. We can go to school; we can work; we can perform basic errands like going to the store for groceries, talking on the phone, and saying basic things to the cashier who rings us up wherever we go. We may have little to no friends and not a good support system, and we may freak out over various little things and have trouble giving speeches to classes or colleagues, but somehow, we’ve managed to get past a lot of our anxieties and reach a point where we’ve succeeded at various things in life.
But there are so many people with social anxiety who are not like that, who haven’t achieved even half of the successes as the other group. These people are the ones who typically drop out of school; who can’t hold down a job; who have a hard time even leaving the house a lot of the time. I really feel for this large amount of people. I know that if I never would have pushed through a lot of situations that made me anxious, if I would’ve let my SA completely take over, then I would be in the same position as them. I wouldn’t be sitting in this apartment right now; I would be back at my house in my hometown, because I would’ve dropped out long ago. I was able to push through things despite my SA peaking.
And yet here I am feeling miserable, like my life isn’t complete. I sit around feeling sorry for myself, wishing that I had a lot more than what I currently do have, and here are these people who would kill to have my life. Not just people who suffer from SA, either. I grew up in a working class family, yet my mother sent me to one of the better schools in town so that I wouldn’t have to deal with all the bullsh*t that went on in the public schools there (let’s just say they aren’t the greatest). She struggled to pay my tuition on time, and would use almost all of her income tax money to pay for it. For years we lived in an apartment in this neighborhood that eventually went to sh*t once they changed landlords and started taking in Section 8 tenants.
Even though I felt uncomfortable living like that throughout childhood, it wasn’t that bad. It only seemed that way because I was surrounded by mostly kids who were even more privileged than me, and even then many of them had their problems. Just because their parents made more money than mine, doesn’t mean anything. Still, I don’t know too many other people from the same socioeconomic status as me who got the chance to have a better life than their parents. I’m very fortunate to have a mother who cared about my future and who tried everything she could to make sure I would turn out all right and make something of myself. Even though my father was a pain to live with because of his drinking and bar-hopping, I am lucky that I at least had a father figure in my life who wasn’t abusive to me as a child. He was a rather lousy father, but he wasn’t the worst, and at least he stuck around after the accidental pregnancy.
So many people without SA would love to have my life. So many people with SA would love to have my life. I’ve been reading books and blogs about people who suffer from other mental illnesses, and I feel grateful that I don’t have what they have. Here are these people who have been suffering from such bad mood disorders for years, and they’re on medication for it. You know what drove me to finally turn to Prozac as a last resort? A goddamn boy. A BOY, of all things. Here are all these people who are in agony from their own mental hell, and the one thing that drove me to hell and f**ked me up good was a relationship gone wrong. When you compare my demise to that of many others, mine looks rather pathetic.
And still there are so many people with SA, both older and younger than me, who have yet to experience a relationship. Many of them might not ever get the chance. They want to experience the very same things I got to experience for 11 months so badly, and here I am feeling like **** after having the opportunity to experience a relationship for the first time in my life.
You see, I’m greedy. It doesn’t matter that I have brains, beauty, education, creativity, and that I’ve finally gotten to experience a relationship. I want more than that. I want friends I can hang out with. I want those people I can interact with on Facebook all the time. I want the boyfriend who will never leave me and I’ll never leave him. I want so much more, and here are so many people who would kill to have even half of what I already have. Hell, some people never even get the opportunity to go to therapy for their problems, even though they could desperately use it.
I’m well aware of all of this. I know that I’m more privileged and spoiled than lots of people, and there are others who are more privileged and spoiled than me in various ways. I know I’m greedy and that I want more than what I already have. I feel pathetic sometimes for feeling like my life is hell when it could be so much worse. Does that make me feel any better, though? No. Comparing my life to those who are more worse off than me doesn’t make me feel better about myself at all. It makes me feel glad that I’m not in a worse position, and I feel sympathetic to those who are in worse positions, but it doesn’t make me feel high on life. It doesn’t make me feel like my problems are less important.
I guess it’s good that I’m aware of these things, even though it doesn’t make me feel any better about my life.
) You're here, you think/feel that way... What can you do about it?
