Social Anxiety at School: “I Promise, I Won’t Bite”

“I promise, I won’t bite.”

Growing up, I heard that phrase more than a couple times from my teachers. Whether it was because I was terrified and looked like a deer in headlights if I had to walk up to my teacher and ask any question, or whether it was the aftermath of having to meet with one of my teachers because of “not communicating” and feeling so much anxiety that it could fill multiple planets, many of my instructors have reassured me of this before.

Unlike some people whose anxiety started in high school or middle school because of bullying or other factors that come with teenagehood and feeling self-conscious, I will say, my social anxiety in school settings likely started way back in preschool. In fact, I think if I was a child of the current era, I would’ve been sent for an evaluation of Selective Mutism or Social Anxiety. But because I attended elementary school in the 90’s, my parents, and I assume most teachers thought I was just “shy” or “extremely shy” and would eventually grow out of it.

I was told I cried most of my first few months of preschool, and really only participated in the singing activities. When I wasn’t singing, I was sitting in the corner of the classroom crying. Oh, and I wet my pants often — not because I wasn’t potty trained, but because I was scared to ask to go to the bathroom. (Obviously, I have no conscious memories of this time of my life). Even as early as kindergarten, my experience of having to raise my hand to ask to go to the bathroom was terrifying — but again, I have no distinct conscious memories from this period of my life.

Second grade. I’m sure many people have some “I waited too long, and wet my pants” story, but this one sticks out to me clear as day, even now, 20 years later. I remember one of my classmates getting his name on the board (getting in trouble?) for going to the bathroom right after coming back from recess. So — after this classmate got in trouble, I was terrified of the same situation happening to me. Fast forward to P.E. class… I really need to go. We are playing baseball, and I’m up to bat. It’s taking forever….and then. It all comes out. Pee everywhere. Pee on the baseball mat, too. Legit, in front of my class. My teacher tells us: “Ok, let’s pack up and go back to class now!” I’m now wondering whether I’m going to be in trouble. So… my PE teacher obviously has to tell my teacher. And I’m just embarrassed beyond anything. On top of that, I’m scared that my parents will be angry, and my teacher’s going to be angry as well.

Although the accidents eventually stopped, the fear of asking for help or raising my hand to ask questions or approaching teachers stayed. And grew. Because as I grew older, I discovered two new tactics. Friends, and avoidance.

Having to ask a question in class, or ask my teachers for help terrified me. I remember being in elementary school (maybe around 4th or 5th grade), and describing the scenario of having to raise my hand or talk out loud in class as being like the following experience: Someone is squeezing my throat. I can’t breathe. My lips are super-glued together. My hands are held down by weights. I can’t move from my seat. I’m stuck. I need someone to notice me. To help me.

Being afraid to approach my teachers also meant not being able to ask for help on homework, and being afraid to turn in late assignments. So eventually missing assignments led to having to talk to my teachers because of said missing assignments. Predictably, having to endure the individual talks with my teachers terrified me. More than once, I’d hear some variation of: “I won’t bite.”; “Just communicate with me.”; “I’m not that scary.”

I suppose on some level, my conscious brain understood this, but it was like I needed to be constantly reminded of that, and to be reassured that they were “safe” to communicate with.

Common thoughts that would pop into my head are: “[XYZ] teacher will think I’m stupid.”; “I’m so scared. What’s going to happen?”; “I would honestly rather be pushed off a cliff or get shot in the head with a gun than talk to/ask [XYZ] for help.”; “[XYZ] teacher will be so angry with me.”; “I can’t do this.” 

To ease the anxiety in the short-term, I would turn to classmates and friends to help communicate for me. I would drag [XYZ] friend into the classroom with me, and have them ask questions for me. Once, is fine. Twice is OK, too. But for me, suddenly I’m death gripping said friend, because I literally cannot see a way for me to communicate with my teachers by myself.

Elementary school. Middle school. High school. College. This continued on and on like a horrible cycle, and some type of nightmare. All the while I hoped and prayed that maybe I’d grow up one day and “get over” my anxiety. Maybe I’d grow an extra backbone and be extra brave one day.

At the same time, nobody ever noticed my anxiety. Why? With my peers, I was seemingly normal. I could communicate, laugh, and joke with my friends around. In fact, if I was with a friend, I would feel comfortable talking with my teachers. As long as a peer was there, I would feel safe enough to talk.

Most of my experience at school consisted of me avoiding my teachers/authority like the plague, because anxiety would peak the moment I had to communicate with them, or dragging friends along to help talk for me.

To this day, I still struggle with communicating in these exact situations. Treatment has helped tremendously, but there are days when I wish I had been diagnosed and treated at a young age. Maybe my condition would not be as debilitating as it is now?

Most days though, I just need to hear: “I promise, I won’t bite.”

Growing and Being Stretched

I’ve been growing tomato plants now inside my apartment — yes INSIDE — my apartment for the past few months now. We have a yearly tradition at my university known as “Picnic Day” similar to a campus-wide open house where there are activities all around campus and tons of exhibits for the community at large as well.

Each year, they give away free plants as well. I’d never been too interested in gardening when I was growing up. I would help my mom in the garden, but that was the extent of my “gardening interests”. It wasn’t until I took two little tomato plants home in the heat that I remember talking to them like they were my little pets or children. I remember quietly whispering to them, and telling them “Momma won’t let you die. Don’t you worry.”

Of course, I had my doubts… I don’t have a balcony in my apartment, and I’ve never really gardened before. So it was truly an experiment in the making. I remember thinking in my mind: I’ll probably kill these things in a couple weeks, so it won’t really matter much.

But with some sunlight, water, and love, they grew and grew….

I was actually getting kind of impatient because they were growing so slowly (compared to outside tomato plants) and after the first blooms on my Early Girl started showing up, I was thinking that perhaps flowers would start blooming by the end of July. But alas, July came and went, and…. still no flowers!

Everyone around me suggested multiple options: Did you water it enough? Have you been giving them enough fertilizer? Do they have enough sunlight on them?  As well-intentioned as everyone was, I wanted to give them time. For apartment tomato leaves, they were looking WONDERFUL, but I was also starting to give up on them and lose patience with them. My roommate has (had) been commenting for weeks that she didn’t want them in the apartment anymore. I kept telling myself: August. If they don’t form flowers in August, then I’ll get rid of them. A few people actually suggested “stressing them out”– an idea that I had negated immediately. Stress out my babies?? How could I?

This week, since I’ve been so busy with teaching, I’ve actually been neglecting the plants (a bit). I haven’t been watering them as often, so the soil was actually completely dry when I watered it earlier, and a couple patches of leaves are looking diseased and wilted. On top of that, it’s been quite hot where I am. Today, when one of my new roommates moved in, I showed her some plants, and curiously, I saw that the first flowers had bloomed on one of the tomato plants!

4 months! 4 months for the flower to finally bloom!

But what do you know… it actually took (some) neglect to get the flowers to –finally — start blooming. Does it mean that I don’t love these tomato plants? Not at all! But in order to push them to start forming flowers (and eventually tomatoes), the tomatoes can’t get too comfortable in a nice air-conditioned controlled environment.

Isn’t it interesting that being stretched outside of our comfort zones in therapy is similar to this process. Sometimes I’m angry with my therapist after session for pushing me outside of my comfort zone, because it’s uncomfortable, it’s different, and it’s new. It feels like she’s neglecting me on some level. I feel discouraged that I’m not making progress, yet being stretched outside of my comfort zone hurts. But it’s this process that produces results. This process of being “stressed” that will actually get flowers to grow– and eventually tomatoes to come out.

But just like my tomato plants, if I’m never stretched beyond this comfort zone, I can be a pretty tomato plant with lots of green, healthy leaves, content in this condition….but on some level, I’m not living to my full potential…

My tomato plants were nice and pretty as a decoration with green, bushy leaves. But me as a newbie gardener, I wanted to see tomato flowers open up! (And hopefully actual tomatoes coming out of those flowers!!)

Can’t wait to see everything else my tomato plants are going to teach me during this process. Now, I get to be the dutiful “bee” and pollinate them everyday! 🙂

 

Had I Met You In A Different Context

Had I Met You in a Different Context
Had I met you in a different context
Would it still be like this?
So awkward to admit certain feelings
And fantasies of mutual bliss

Had I met you in a different context
Would I be able to admit-
How much my soul longs for your affection
And for you to be my mom–for just a bit

Had I met you in a different context
Would I ever let you know-
How I long for a simple hug
Instead of avoiding and saying “I don’t know”

Had I met you in a different context
Would I be able to see-
That you’re not God atop a pedestal
And that you’re human–just like me

Had I met you in a different context
Would it be OK to say-
That I want more of your attention
Especially when we are away

Had I met you in a different context
I would want to say
I need a bit of assurance
And to know you’re not going away.

Had I met you in a different context
I would want you to know
How important this relationship is to me
And how I wish this relationship would grow

New Therapist

I can’t even begin to describe the type of week I’ve had… it’s all happened so quickly, that I feel like I’m running on adrenaline and also on auto-pilot mode. Which, in a sense, makes accomplishing tasks easier, but it all feels like a dream at this point.

I saw a new therapist today.

Before I talk about what happened in session today, I must rewind to last MONDAY, when all of this stuff started.

OT emailed me and told me she got the letter I sent. She told me her first reaction to the letter was:  ‘you haven’t done anything wrong, but it sounds like you think you have’. Which was entirely accurate. I felt like I had somehow screwed things up between me and her, which got us to where we were. I continued to read the email and was speechless by the end. Basically this was the main part of her email: You ARE an ultra sensitive person, and that makes it hard to interview, as if ‘reject’ or accept a therapist, and at the same time, there is not much to be achieved by swimming upstream.  Therefore, I am going to challenge you to move on and find a therapy nest that feels ‘just right’ to you.

Honestly, I was kind of numb by what I had read. Part of me expected to see that, but another part of me was angry. At myself. At her. At this whole entire therapy thing. After getting the email from OT, I was thinking of quitting therapy altogether. Feeling discouraged by the entire therapy process, in general.

I was thinking about sitting on the email for a few days, kind of digest OT’s words, and perhaps wait until after spring break to call OT for a last session/reach out to a new therapist, etc.

WELL, that didn’t quite happen…because Monday afternoon during my seminar class, I received an email from the insurance coordinator at my university informing me that if I didn’t make a decision about which outside therapist I was going to choose, the referral for outside therapy [made by urgent care therapist in the beginning of February] would expire on March 11th (this Friday). Talk about pressure! Next week just so happens to be finals week, and the following week is spring break. And since school t is leaving on March 31st, that means I’d have to make some random appointment with an urgent care therapist or a therapist on campus in order to get a NEW referral for outside therapy. Which would likely take weeks.

I knew that if I was put on that sort of timeline, I’d NEVER go back to therapy, considering the fact that it would be so complicated.

On Monday night I spent 2 hours on the phone with my mom, since I felt HORRIBLE about myself, I felt like if I wasn’t me, then maybe OT and I would’ve been able to work things out. But after waking up on Tuesday morning, I decided I’d call the other therapist that I had gotten a referral for when school t initially referred me for outside therapy.

Somehow I agreed to an appointment this week, because of the school referral time issue…AND… I had my initial appointment with new therapist today.

This therapist somehow got me talking about how complicated therapy has been. I’m also less resistant, in general, this time around, so I was able to share more about what brings me into therapy.

The only thing that concerns me so far is the fact that this new therapist doesn’t allow out of session contact. Which SUCKS, considering that sometimes, I NEED that extra support. She wants to do the work in session, which I understand… but apparently emails, phone calls/texts, etc. are all for administrative purposes only. So– we’ll see what happens. In general, though, I felt pretty comfortable sharing stuff, which is a good start, I’d say.

I’m so ready for this quarter to be over…. I haven’t started on my final papers yet… and I’m currently in a grading frenzy. But once I’m done grading, then I can really start to focus on my own work~so if I’m not commenting/liking posts as regularly, that’s the reason. 🙂

I Don’t Like this Plan

I don’t like this plan of contacting OT…. considering the fact that it’s not going too well at the moment. For the past few days, OT and I have been playing an elaborate game of phone tag, which I HATE. Actually, let’s clarify a bit… I’ve been trying to contact OT for the past few days, to no avail. By the time I get out of class, I assume that OT’s out of office or something, because I can’t reach her.

This morning, I THINK OT tried calling me back, but I was in lecture. And uncharacteristically of me, I actually ‘rejected’ her call, because my phone kept vibrating on the desk. It was weird, though, because I kept OT would call & leave a voicemail, but she never called back. But later today, after I was free, and when I tried to call her back, she didn’t answer. It’s like…. the universe doesn’t want this contacting OT thing to work or something…

I’m contacting OT to the best of my current ability– as in, I know that I can probably leave a voicemail or email OT my availability, but I’m not “on board” with this idea of contacting OT to where I’m ready to do anything more than just call OT, because part of my brain keeps thinking: If OT doesn’t call you back, then screw her! See, she never cared about you in the first place. She isn’t worth your time. But my “wise mind”/school t ‘inner voice’ keeps telling me to work things out, that things will get better between me & OT.

And my mind that just wants to focus on writing my final papers is just like… “can both voices just quiet down, please?”

To make matters worse, I think because subconsciously (and even consciously!) the young parts of me really want to be attached to school t [again], I ended up playing up to her last weekend when I sent an email to her about being “overwhelmed” with everything. Yes, I AM overwhelmed, but the message I sent to school t was more of an “impulse”/attention-getting type of email, rather than a message out of necessity. It’s been a while since I’ve sent an impulse email to a therapist… I think the last time I sent an impulse email was when I was in therapy with Yoda.

So, in my reply I got from school t earlier this week, she basically told me resuming therapy with OT is what will be most helpful for me, and while the best way to feel better would be to work with OT, urgent care at my university was also an option (if in crisis).

I swear, school t “reads”/knows me too well. And I hate the boundary she set. Obviously, I know that therapeutically, it would probably be VERY confusing (and possibly harmful?) to my work with OT if school t let me rely on her instead. Even so, I’m so pissed off that I got the type of reply from school t that I did!!

Hopefully, OT will contact me sometime during the weekend… (maybe Sunday?) OT’s not in office on Saturdays, which I know for sure, but she does have available appointments on Sundays. Next week is the last week of the quarter, though… which sucks as far as resuming therapy (if it does happen) with OT is concerned…

A (Semi) Sense of Success

I DID IT!!!! OH MY GOODNESS, I DID IT!!!!

I typed up the letter to OT, and… actually dropped the letter off at the post office today.

Obviously, I’m now freaking about the post-sending the letter implications… Will OT hate me? What if she is angry after she reads the letter? WHAT IF I MADE A HORRIBLE DECISION BY SENDING THIS LETTER?

OF COURSE, I also wish I could tell school therapist about the good news (in person)– and I’m probably going to send the link of this post to her. 🙂

I swear, this lowers my anxiety A LOT. Earlier this weekend, I was at the point where I was having thoughts: I’m at the limit of my coping mechanisms. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of fighting, and I just want to give up. HELP SCHOOL THERAPIST, PLEASE.

It’s not completely better by any means, but it’s a HUGE step forward, and I’m happy about that.

At least I can focus (hopefully) on school stuff for now….

“OT is Here”

School therapist called me this afternoon….which was an unexpected surprise (maybe semi-expected, considering my two-line reply to her message about calling OT today)

First thing school therapist mentioned was that she had spoken to OT. My heart started racing, and I believe I even commented under my breath, Oh no.

School therapist continued saying that she had asked OT about whether there were any available appointment slots for me, and OT said that she would be flexible for my schedule. School therapist told me I just wanted to know what you thought about this, and to see if you had any questions for me. [OT] also shared another piece of information with me.

At this point, my heart was beating out of my chest, and frankly, I didn’t know how to respond to this news. Was I supposed to be relieved? Scared? Angry? Something else? I remember laying on my bed feeling tongue tied, not knowing how to respond to school therapist. I…um…. what was the other piece of information?

[OT] suggested that if it helps you, to send a letter to her through the mail.

As if that news was supposed to reassure me…? I’m pretty sure in that moment, I was in pure shock. In my last message to school therapist on Friday, I had linked a previous blog entry which summarized how I was feeling, so school therapist knew pretty well about the fact that I felt like OT didn’t care about me.

Each statement school therapist made was just shock on top of more shock… the next thing school therapist said to me started stirring up all the emotions– I got the sense from you previously that you didn’t think OT cared about you, but I sense that she does. How does that make you feel?

Hearing that from school therapist was hard to take in. I don’t feel that OT cares about me… part of me keeps wondering, if she cared about me, why didn’t she follow up? Why did she never message me or call me again?

The rest of the conversation was trying to digest the shock as much as I could. The young parts of me felt simultaneously cared for/acknowledged and understood by school therapist, and challenged and abandoned by her. School therapist acknowledged that it’s a very difficult situation to be in, and validated my fear and emotions that are coming up with news of her leaving. Even in this acknowledgement of the difficulty, she keeps on challenging me to re-establish contact with OT, which is hard…

It felt weird hearing/experiencing two different things at the end of the conversation. School therapist left me with: I know it’s difficult, and a lot of old emotions are coming up, some of which have to do with me. But I want you to know that OT is here. OT is here for you.

I’m reluctant to accept that, because what I want to hear from her is: I am here, I am here for you.

—-
Through today’s conversation, I’m reminded a scene from the 1998 movie, Stepmom (with Susan Sarandon & Julia Roberts) where the two of them are sitting at a restaurant, and Julia Roberts [Isabel] and Susan Sarandon [Jackie] finally put their differences aside. Isabel admires Jackie’s maternal instincts, and Jackie is in admiration of Isabel’s “hipness” and ability to connect with Anna (the daughter). Finally, both women, through tears, admit their greatest fear. Isabel admits that she fears that on her wedding day, Anna will wish for her mother’s presence, and Jackie fears that Anna won’t. Jackie tells Isabel that Jackie will have their childrens’ past, and Isabel can have their future.
—-
After I got off the phone with school therapist, all this emotion that I’d been holding in finally came out. It was me acknowledging to myself that it is difficult, it is hard. It’s not fair. I do want school therapist to be there. I don’t want school therapist to leave. I am feeling ambivalent toward OT, and I worry about what will happen if/when I contact OT. I finally felt all of that today. But maybe it can be like it is in Stepmom… school therapist can have my past, and OT can have my future.

Not feeling completely convinced by all of it yet, but maybe….eventually….

I Fear Re-initiating Contact with OT

School therapist finally emailed me back earlier tonight.

And in the email, she mentioned that she would contact OT for me tomorrow.

That scares me…. a TON.

Previously, I had mentioned that part of the fear came from the fact that I didn’t know what school therapist & OT were going to be talking about during that conversation, which is still something that worries me, but what worries me even more now is everything that will (or maybe won’t!) come up in all of this.

I feel incapable of repairing what has happened with OT at the moment… I’m so worried about how that conversation will (potentially) go–or not go.

There’s part of me that wants to open up to her, and the part of me that wants to open up wants OT’s help, but doesn’t know how to ask for that help about how to open up. In that sense, I wish OT would cue in more to my needs. Most people assume that because I’m so intelligent, I use this intelligence to manipulate or control the situation to turn out the way that I want it to turn out. But to be honest, I can think of 10,000 other things to be stubborn or manipulative about. I don’t know why I’d want to control the situation by not sharing things in session.

Part of me has also given up on the relationship and dynamic in session being different or changing. I worry that I’ll be disappointed again if I hope that things will be different or change in some magical way and they don’t. What if OT gives up on me?

I want to be able to trust that things will be OK with OT, and right now, I don’t. I really don’t.

Oh… it’s going to be a very long night.

And to school therapist’s reply (about contacting OT tomorrow), I replied with the following:

that scares me….for a multitude of reasons >_<

sorry I’m making this so complicated…

Emails to my Therapist

Emails to my therapist
Are a necessary evil
In today’s technology-ridden society

Emails to my therapist
Are a vehicle for anxiety
As I am waiting for a response

Why won’t they respond?
Don’t they care?
Don’t they see?

My heart is racing
My breathing rate is increasing
My thoughts are spinning

My sent emails
fall on unseen eyes
fall on deaf ears

Why won’t they respond?
Don’t they care?
Don’t they see?

The tension and anxiety rising
As I wait for a response
My hope slowly dwindling away

Emails to my therapist
Are a necessary evil
In today’s technology-ridden society

 

Acting out Old Patterns

These past few weeks, I’ve been a mish-mash of emotions. And since my last appointment with my school therapist, I have done NOTHING as far as initiating conversation or attempting to repair the relationship with OT [outside therapist]. Well, I DID attempt to craft a letter to OT…so there’s that.

And (obviously) the longer time passes, the harder it gets, and the more I start to wonder: why bother?

At this point, I’m basically repeating the same pattern I know how to repeat when in this mode. Get angry/feel hurt, avoid, and cut off this person from my life. Which, my “rational self” knows is the most idiotic decision anyone can make. But this whole therapy situation has just brought out a whole dimension of confusion and emotion I wasn’t aware previously existed. Not only is it bringing up my worst fear at the moment of not feeling cared for by OT, but it’s also bringing up a TON of old feelings that I kinda-sorta pushed off to the side last year, because I asked school therapist to help with this situation.

To make matters worse, it’s like my subconscious is trying to torture me with inserting school therapist into my dreams. Recently, almost every dream I’ve had, school therapist has been in…it’s like I’m practicing trying to work through/process this situation regarding outside therapist, and BECAUSE I can’t verbalize anything to anyone right now (hence the non-communication with both school therapist and outside therapist), my dreams seem to be the ideal place to do the processing and practicing. Blah. If only I could process(?) in real life… maybe I can get more sleep at night.

These dreams take me back to a time when I was in high school, and my parents kept pushing me to drop a class that I really didn’t want to drop, and I sort of “ignored” the situation for months… and for the months (from approximately November to February) I would have nightly dreams and this particular teacher of the class that I was being made to drop would appear in the dream each night.

Earlier this afternoon also just (likely) confirmed my worst fears. A few of my fellow graduate students and I met with the counselor who is going to replace the former “graduate counselor” in the counseling department today. We covered a variety of topics of how to expand and publicize services to serve graduate student needs, and in the midst of conversation, we touched on counselors who were coming in and leaving. Basically without naming any names, the conversation basically confirmed my worst fears.
Graduate counselor mentioned to us: Well, we have one counselor whose last day is going to be March 31st. Part of my heart just sank. March 31st. The exact same date school therapist gave me when I met with her a couple weeks back. [Of course, I’m also crossing my fingers and hoping that it’s not her.] But, I wanted to throw a brick out the window. Scream. Basically, my brain is re-living what it felt like when Yoda told me during the first session after winter break about her leaving the counseling center for good. Thank goodness I was lucky enough to stalk my way back into her private practice AND she kept me as one of her few remaining clients at the university when she was still working in a limited capacity for the rest of the term…. BUT–when Yoda first told me the news, I’m pretty sure it was the first time I FLIPPED SHIT on my therapist. On anyone, really.

Part of me wonders what would’ve happened if I hadn’t re-initiated contact with school therapist a few weeks back. Whether I had just remained pissed off at outside therapist and left it at that. Would we be where I am today? Would I still be re-experiencing all these old, confusing emotions that are all coming back up? Would I still be feeling as angry as I am about school therapist leaving at the end of March if I had not talked to her a few weeks ago? I know it’s no fault of hers, but I feel like I’m being abandoned by school therapist.Yet another therapist. AGAIN. Why does this thing keep happening? Why–why–when I finally get familiar/comfortable/trusting enough of someone–why is it that they have to leave? Why? I wonder…Would these old wounds, patterns of relating (or not) and how I’m perceiving everything be bothering me so much if I had not asked school therapist for her help with this situation?
I know what the wisest decision would be. But I don’t know if I can do it. There are way too many confusing emotions involved at the moment. I know OT isn’t Yoda and isn’t school therapist. But I can’t help but want to have either one of them back. I worked so hard during the summer to finally work through whatever stuff was lingering with Yoda, but I never knew that re-initiating contact with school therapist would bring all of this up… yet again. I would’ve rather been buried alive than bring to the table all of those confusing emotions about/toward school therapist last year. But some time away from school therapist has given me the desire, the need, the want to try to verbalize everything, even if I still want to be burned alive come time to talk. But I’m sure my subconscious is pretty confused at the moment…
Either way, I know that before the quarter ends, I have to do something, considering the fact that school therapist is (likely) only going to stay until March 31st (unless, of course I’m dreaming about that entire portion of the conversation and making wild guesses!). But again, my natural inclination/tendency on hearing the news is to construct a wall around me.

Crossing my fingers and hoping that what I remember hearing and what I’m guessing isn’t true…will totally ruin my day/month/year if my worst fear is confirmed.