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On Social Anxiety And Awkwardness Making Me Act A Damn Fool

November 2, 2012

Anyone who knows me usually scoffs when I say that I’m shy. Most people know me as loud, argumentative and very opinionated. I find it to be a pretty clever front.

I’m excruciatingly shy. Petrified of embarrassing myself. I agonize over things and rehash them in my head for years after the fact. No one else has to remember, but I do.

I hate admitting I’m nice. Nice people get taken advantage of. But I am. I want people to see I’m squishy on the inside, that I care way too much for anyone’s good, that my goal is always to make a difference, to say the right thing, to be perfect. I’m never good enough for myself, why would I be for anyone else?

Social Anxiety sucks. I am actually diagnosed with it and it makes my PTSD an even more awesome trip. I fear so much that I am not wanted or good enough, I’m more inclined to stay home than do anything. I destroy myself for doing or not doing anything I are as a failure to meet the expectations of others. I can’t turn it off and unfortunately, reassurances only go so far.

On the flip side, I know how it feels to not get heard. To be drowned out by everyone and everything else because of fear. I know what helplessness feels like. I know how hard it can be for some to speak out against the majority in the wrong. It polarizes me, at times, to practically and sometimes literally yell at the wrongs. I’m still petrified, usually am left shaking afterward, but the truth that echoes has now been given a chance to grow.

So the next time you want to hate on the loud girl in the back of the room, listen to what she’s actually saying. Most likely, she’s just trying to make a difference for those who don’t get heard.

Until Next Time,

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