Chances are you know someone who suffers from social anxiety, and you can be 100% certain that what they are suffering from will be widely misunderstood.

‘A case of the Monday blues?’, someone will chime, reducing the condition to the level of those of us who could do with an extra day tagged onto our weekend.

That trivialising of a serious, and sometimes crippling, issue makes it difficult for those with social anxiety disorder (and in more extreme cases of social anxiety disorder) to speak out.

Through a series of interviews over on QZ, however, we can get a little insight into “A day in the life of someone with social anxiety“.

We’ll focus on Frank, a man in his 30s, and the horror of heading to his parents’ house for dinner:

My sister-in-law brought a friend, an attractive woman about my age. She was nice enough—she went to get some beer from the fridge and asked me if I wanted any. I don’t drink—never have—so why start now? But I said yes because my brain got jumbled, as it always does in these situations…

Why was she there, anyhow? I looked around: was everyone in on this? Were they watching me make a fool of myself? Did they bring her around for me—because they pitied me? My palms started sweating, then my back, and then chills ran up my neck and behind my ears. My face felt hot; it was probably very red…

After what must have been two and a half hours of sheer torture, I excused myself and drove home. It was only after I’d locked my front door behind me and settled into bed that I felt a loosening in my chest.

And you thought you had an awkward Christmas lunch coming up with your sister-in-law.

Frank then opened up about how his anxiety disorder affects other parts of his life:

My life today is completely structured around my social anxiety. I was an honor student in school and I scored in the 95th percentile on my SATs, but I chose not to go to college. Instead, I sell stuff on eBay during the day, and I work the night shift as a stocker—this way, I have very minimal interactions with people. I go to the grocery store when I’m done with work in the early morning, so that I find it mostly empty. I live by myself…

Leaving the house gives me anxiety—it’s not just the prospect of seeing someone or having to make conversation, but also the idea of being out in public and not being able to retreat into myself, if needed. When I walk down the street, or when I’m at work, I feel like people are watching and judging me—the way I look, the way I walk, or the space I’m taking up…

The only person I’ve talked to about this is my brother. He knows I have a problem, but he likes to think I can just “get over it.” When I confronted him about putting that woman up to talking to me, he admitted it. He told me that I “just need to suck it up and be a man.” Sometimes I think that he’s right, that I do this to myself. I keep the world at bay, and now I have no one to share my life with. But I’ve seen how people can be, you know? I’ve seen how just innately cruel they can be, even as young kids, before the world’s really had at them. So what do I need people for? I’m better off by myself.

Just be mindful the next time someone seems a little down and your advice consists of ‘harden up, pal’.

It’s cool that you’re an ‘extroverted introvert‘, which is all the rage right now, but not everyone can be so lucky.

[source:qz]