Fumbling My Way Through Life Episode 7

by Noise Pollution

Oh god.

Oh god oh god.

I forget from time to time just how fucking bad my social anxiety is due to me keeping my interactions with people to a minimum. Work doesn’t count. When I’m doing customer service, some switch in my brain allows me to keep myself sane; I don’t know how it works, nor can I operate it manually.

I ran into someone I haven’t spoken to in… like two years or so. I was leaving work and I saw her and started talking to her.

That’s not entirely true.

What actually happened is that I was working the registers at one of the areas of my job and saw her shopping. Then I proceeded to have a fucking panic attack and basically hid from her for the rest of my shift. And it’s not that I, y’know, didn’t want to talk to her. She’s very cool and relaxed and not intimidating in spite of the fact that I find her attractive. I just started panicking at the very idea of socializing.

That, and the fact that the way we lost touch was kind of entirely my fault; I failed to contact her for a number of weeks until it felt too awkward to ever speak to her again and then deleted her number from my phone.

Social anxiety!

But I couldn’t let myself leave the store without saying hi. It seemed wrong somehow. So on my way out, I started up a conversation and… it was fucking awkward. I’ve never been not awkward in my interactions with her, but this conversation was on an entirely different level from that shit.

And then I basically ran away. I ended the conversation abruptly with “I’ve gotta take off now!” Then I hid in a bathroom for ten minutes on the verge of tears. They weren’t sadness tears. I just couldn’t deal. I was freaking the fuck out and it was such a small situation. After I felt calm enough to drive without accidentally killing someone, I drove home, dodged my family and went straight to my room. And that leads up to right now.

Sometimes I think I’m “better” as far as my mental health stuff goes. Sometimes I think I’ve been cured and that the monster is gone. The reality is that I hide from the monster and tell myself it’s not there. Then it finds me when I least expect it and it eats me alive.

I hate myself, and that conversation went so terribly that I may have scared her off from ever shopping at my work again. I’d want to avoid me if I were her. But god. I feel really worthless. And I feel crazy.

[Please listen to the song.]