triodeguy

Paranoid.

That's what I am...

Paranoid.

...Or at least that's what my therapist is telling me. No, it's not that people are laughing at me or judging me, I'm just being paranoid.

Of course social anxiety does come with a degree of paranoia, people aren't always snickering as I walk by. And of course not everyone is laughing, just the jerks and assholes. But there seems to be enough of these in the world that I'm almost guaranteed to be heckled whenever I venture out...or maybe I'm being too pessimistic? The truth is I really don't believe that all of the people who are reacting to me are jerks or assholes at all. They're just reacting to something that seems absurd; namely, me. But it's sometimes hard not to take things personally.

It still hurts.

Imagine feeling that every morning as you prepare to step outside that your preparing to give a public speech, or perhaps more accurately, imagine yourself a comedian about to deliver your routine to hostile crowd. This is what a person with social anxiety goes through every day.

Regardless of whether people are reacting to my (perceived) physical imperfections or my awkward mannerisms, they're still reacting.

And it still hurts.

You know, I have to wonder... If scenario B turns out to be true, then were the events of the past eight months really a function of my paranoia, or theirs?