It use to be cute but now...

My co-worker gave me a ride to and from work again today. I am starting to feel less nervous around her but as usual I might as well be a mute. I don't say anything in the car. It is embarrassing; her boyfriend is usually in the car as well and usually and extra person tags along and I wonder what they say about me when I leave. I know they must be joking about me or judging me somehow. The thing is I have so much I want to say but I just can't for the life of me SPEAK UP. This really hurts.

I feel like such a fool because I am not at the age where this behavior is looked at as being cute (like when I was a little girl)...now it is ridiculous. Honestly, I thought that by moving out west, I would have gotten better. I was living in such a fast paced city back east and felt like if I took my boyfriend up on his offer to move to the west coast, I would be a different person (for the better) when I returned home. Its not working out that way. I think my anxieties actually got worse.

At least I can go about unnoticed in the east because people are so busy and thing are so hectic. But when I moved out here I was not ready for the way people actually SEE you. It is more pressure in some ways and I was not ready. At the same time, the chaos of the busy streets back home is enough to cause a panic attack every minute.

I called a few cognitive behavioral therapists last week and did not get a response. Things like this discourage me. I am going to make a few more calls tomorrow or on Friday.

Until then.

Guilt

What am I feeling today? Extreme discouragement. I did not attend the teleprompter class nor the free acting workshop that was to follow on Saturday. I sat at home all dressed up with my new dark scarlet shirt and black stretch pants with somewhere to go but without the courage to take me there. I used the computer to take my mind away from the situation but logging on to various websites that would take my focus away from my guilt...my pain.

The logical thing to do at this point, would have been for me to pick up the phone and call the acting coach to let her know that I would not make it but I could not bring myself to do that. I could feel my cell phone vibrating and my acting coach's name flashed inside the small screen. I froze and felt my heart palpitating faster as the feelings of guilt climbed to new heights. I turned my cellphone off and threw it on my bookbag on the other side of the bedroom.

I sent my acting coach an email saying I would not be making it to class because I could not get a ride. I told her I would still try my best to make it but I already knew that my anxieties had won again. I walked to the bathroom, washed my makeup off, removed my earrings, and changed my clothes into my 'house' clothes.

I grew a little angry the rest of the day. Angry at myself and Angry at the world but I bottled it in and kept the facade that everything was alright. I even practiced how I would tell my co-worker how great the teleprompter/acting class turned out. She had invited me to her apartment for dinner and at that time, I thought maybe there was an ounce of drive left that would allow me to take her up on that offer. It was still around 10AM and dinner at my co-worker's place would not start until 6PM. So I had time to forget about it for now.

My internal anger metamorphisized into plain sadness. Eventually, I found myself laying on a blanket on the floor and wrapping a blue cotton sheet around my body.

I lay there crying and thinking about how far behind I am in my college coursework, how my back hurt, how i have about a month left to get my stuff together before I move back east. I thought about my hair and what hairstyle I should try, I thought about the new scar I had on my face and how I was going to minimize it. I thought about how I had gained at least 35 lbs since moving out west and I thought about going on a serious diet. I thought about work and the new training I was undergoing. I thought about finding a job back east. I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't stop crying.

As I write this, I am becoming saddened by the overwhelming amount of responsibilities that I have. I have to catch up with my 2 media courses and my algebra class this week and next including midterms and finals. I also have to take a midterm and final from last quarters history course. Moreover, I have statistics class from last quarter that I have to start working on. (MY professors are losing there patience with me) and I am scared that I will not reach my goal of earning my bachelors before I turn 30.

I am going to hit the books right now. When I return. I will share about whether or not I went to my co-worker's apartment for dinner on Saturday night and also, I will let you all know what has happened since Saturday.

(I ended up not going)

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My being shy & black throws people off...

I think it is important to explain why I feel the need to emphasize that I am shy and I am black. African Americans, Caribbeans, etc. have been stereotyped as being angry and loud and rude...etc. I am here to not only prove this is incorrect but to show the other side of it. I am very soft spoken and extremely kind...I should say...too kind. I am the other end of that spectrum. I keep my pain to myself most of the time and then I break down when I let it all build up. I do get angry...I am human...but I don't fit the stereotype. There are so many other black people like me and for some it is not an anxiety disorder...it is just their temperament. They are naturally soft spoken and choose to be quiet. But for me, I did not choose to be this way and I want to embody a healthy balance of being reserved and being social.

People meet me and they are thrown off. They are confused that I am not loud and extremely confident and they are baffled. I make others uncomfortable...i think. From my experience, I think people think I am weird and boring. I am actually into a lot of interesting activities and am a very fun person to be around if I were not soo shy...that is. I enjoy many things and have a spontaneous aura but it is very hard for me to act on these interests because I feel vulnerable in this aggressive society.

Thank God for blogging. I can get my feelings off my chest for once and connect with real people without the fear of being judged because I look a certain way or act shy, etc. I honestly feel that once I start getting comments and feedback, this will help me overcome my social anxiety. This is a small step but too me it is huge.

It will be interesting to see how blogging, along with the further help I plan to seek, will come together and treat my disorder. I was invited to my co-worker's apartment today for dinner. I am not sure if I will have it in me to go being that I didn't even have the courage to attend my teleprompter and acting workshop earlier today. (Read my previous blog from today) I would really love to go but my anxiety is too high just thinking about it. I go through this everytime a co-worker invites me to go out, etc. The opportunities for friendship are presented to me many times but because of my disorder I am not able to cultivate a friendship. I hope I am able to start accepting such invitations soon because I will be old and lonely if I don't get over this problem. To make it worse, the co-worker who invited me is very cool. I love her personality and I am surprised she invited me over. She is very personable and has sooo many friends at the job. I would hate to miss the opportunity to become her friend.

I welcome all comments because I need to hear from you all. I have never had the ability to build myself up to bringing up this topic to my friends but this is an opportunity to do so with virtual acquaintances and I am very grateful for this opportunity. It may save my life by allowing me to live my life.

(I don't know how to add links as a sidebar so I am inserting this link that I discovered here:)

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Blogs By Black Women

Bright & Early

So today is Saturday. I woke up bright and early to get ready for a teleprompter class that I registered for at an Acting studio out here. I paid 75.00 for the class about 2-3 weeks ago and I was very ecstatic about attending but this morning, I was anxious and ecstatic.

I ignored my anxiety as best as I could and proceeded to get ready. After, I started doing what I always do to avoid social situations...I started mentally going through the excuses as to why I could not make it. I don't have a ride (which is true)...I could call a cab but this place is over 14 miles away and it may cost me too much(which is true)...I thought of every possible reason for me not to go.

Class started 17 minutes ago and I am still home. Now it is really too late for me to call a cab and even find out whether or not it would have cost me too much. I feel so horrible. This class is very important to me. I have always wanted to take a class at an acting studio and I never have. This was my 1st step. What makes it worse is that after the teleprompter class there is going to be a free intro to acting class workshop which would have been perfect to ease my tensions for the day I do sign up for an acting class.

I should just throw my acting dreams away. If I don't have the guts to actually do whatever it takes to get my ass to this teleprompter class...I will never make it.

COPYRIGHT 2006

Emergency Room Visit...CAUSE: Anxiety

I realized last night that my anxieties have been a struggle for over 20 years of my life and now it has a friend...depression.

I sat in the emergency room, which looked like a hospital room version of an office cubicle w/ a little more privacy. I listened to the middle aged social worker telling me that I had to find a therapist - as if I didn't know this by now. I waited for about 20 minutes for the social worker to arrive. 20 minute and all she could tell me was something so obvious and required no effort or research on her part. What a waste of time! I told her that my insurance just kicked in and that I am "shopping" around for a cognitive behavioral therapist and she looked at me blankly and asked, "Why?" "What's that?" She was uninformed about this disorder and as I stared back at her, I thought to myself, She must think I am crazy.

She had no idea about social anxiety although she pretended to know what was best. She gave me a list of numbers and circled one called ValueOption and said it was for people without insurance. I HAD JUST FINISHED TELLING HER THAT I WAS INSURED AND I HAD EXCELLENT INSURANCE COVERAGE THAT JUST KICKED IN THIS MONTH. INSURANCE THAT I PAY FOR BIWEEKLY. So, I was confused about whether she was listening to a word I said or if she just assumed that I needed ValueOption because I am a black woman. I felt my anxiety rising and as she continued to talk, my mind was trying to figure out why she directed me to ValueOption so quickly. It was weird...did she do this to everyone? I would never know. Maybe it had nothing to do with my race...maybe it was the fact that I had on a worn out pair of blue Diesel sneakers and I looked like I was stressed out because I had just cried me a river before she arrived.

I just stopped talking and waited for her to complete her required spheel and leave. She wasted my time. Also, the doctor never came in to actually talk to me. I never saw a doctor. It seems like despite all the progress thats been made in this field, doctors are not even taking social anxiety seriously anymore. It seems like in the 90's, everyone was taking it serious but I am not sure if this is still the case. (8/26/06 >I just remembered!! Actually, I did see the doctor, it happened so quickly, I barely remembered. I saw him before the social worker came in to speak to me. The doctor, a tall white man, came in cloaked in his white uniform and asked me why I was being seen. I told him. He asked me 2 or so more question and then he asked me if I did drugs. I said No (which is true) and he asked me again. Why is he asking me again? When he asked me the second time I felt so inferior. Did I look like I was on drugs? I know I do not...did he think I was acting strange because I was anxious and my eyes were damp from tears? Did he not ever meet a shy black woman before and took my behavior as that of a drug user? Did I just look strange that night? As the questions came up in my head, the smaller I felt and the more self conscious I became.)

I felt worse. I told the pretty Phillipine looking nurse, who looked like she was about 25 years old, that I was currently taking Lorazapam but it was not helping me much. When she returned to the room she handed me my prescription for Ativan, a medication she mentioned about 30 minutes prior was the same thing as Lorazapam. So someone tell me why they would prescribe this to me if it is the same? She also handed me an Ativan pill and a cup of water & ice then added that she would be peeking in every now and then to check up on me. It doesn't make sense to me but the anxiety in me held me back from speaking up about my well being...about my health...about my concerns.

After they were done with procedure, I removed my hospital robe and got dressed. I wiped what was left of my earlier tears that sprang out from time to time when I was alone for about 15 minutes in the hospital cubicle like room...and then I waived goodbye and smiled to the nurse. As I walked out I wondered what she was thinking of me and if she was talking bad about me. I wondered if I looked weird when I was waiving to her. I wondered what the other people around were thinking.

I called a cab and went home. It was about 2AM and I had to be up by 5AM for work.

COPYRIGHT 2006

Liquor...my medicine

So today at work, I started to get anxious... as usual... right before each of my breaks and lunch. I was not sure if I should have been proactive and joined my co-workers at lunch, particularly one co-worker who gave me a ride to and from work today.

Due to a lack of funds, I have not been able to 'medicate' myself with Cask and Cream or plain hard vodka right before work. I had previously done this for about 2 months in a row (not too long ago) and it was making me sick, literally...so I slowed down and then stopped for a bit. But I got my hands on some vodka mixed with fruit punch today and I took some feeling like this would be the ticket. This would give me the courage to converse with my co-workers and enjoy the moment for the rest of the day.

The alcohol made me feel like I might escape my social anxiety for a little while and at the time it was worth it to me. However, it didn't work. It made me feel tipsy and sluggish. Although my anxiety felt slightly lower it was not low enough to bring me out of the proverbial shell that I have been stuck in since I was a little girl.

At one time, liquor worked perfectly. I would drink and lose my concern for what others were thinking about me. I joined family and friends in conversation and together time and I connected with others. I had to play it off anytime someone mentioned it smelled like beer. I had not been drinking beer so I could say I did not know what they were referring to and look around with them. But the benefits wore off quickly, leaving me hung over and nauseated by the next morning. And now I have to wonder about the damage I might have done to my body in the process.

So I am going to find a cognitive behavioral therapist to help me on my journey to inner reinvention. I've heard the saying time and time again.. "Black woman don't go to the shrink the y go to church!" Don't believe the hype because if you are a black woman and you actually believe this you may stop yourself from getting some professional help that could be very beneficial. No matter what race you are...if your culture has negative attitudes about seeking psychological help...don't let that deter you from getting the help you need. I am sure that this stigma is not felt by black women alone. I would like to hear from ALL RACES AND CULTURES about your thoughts on this issue.

I have not met any black women who have told me they have seen a therapist but I see increasing examples of this in magazine articles and talk shows. I have had about 4 therapists that I can remember. Maybe more. The experiences were always short lived.

I had an African American therapist with dreads and flawless skin who made me feel proud - that's about it. I found myself feeling even more nervous around her. What was she thinking of me...a sistah...coming to her with all this mess in my life. Eventually, I did not return. Then there was the Latina therapist who I saw for a bit longer but my insurance went through some changes and soon I was not able to attend the sessions anymore and moreover she practiced basic therapy methods that did not target my behavior and thought patterns like cognitive behavioral therapy does. The psychiatrist that I saw while under the care of the Latina therapist was a tall, older, Caucasian man who would prescribe me a new drug each time I saw him. Nothing seemed to work for me and although I was glad he was trying all these different drugs on me, I couldn't help but wonder if this was safe. Then there was a middle aged, Caucasian woman that I saw in the city each week. Her method introduced me to cognitive behavioral therapy but I had problems with my insurance again...or was it the fact that she was leaving and a new therapist was being assigned to me? I am not sure. I remember at least one other therapy experience but can't draw a clear picture in my mind...maybe 2 other experiences. For some reason, I have a vague memory of an Asian man who saw me a couple of times and a young Caucasian male therapist as well.

My first experience was as a participant in a case study at a well known hospital uptown. I had just learned that social anxiety was treatable and I didn't waste anytime signing up to be a guinea pig. I was put on an MAOI exhibitor (i think i am saying it correctly). The MAOI worked but I would black out every now and then and faint. I think its because I was told not to eat certain things like cheese and I didn't read the ingredients on my meals as carefully as I should have. Moveover, when I was out with friends, I was often to nervous to tell them I could not eat what they were having because I did not want to explain the 'whys' behind it. I would go on to participate in at least 1 more study in which my brain activity was monitored or something. This was in the 90's when people were starting to recognize anxiety as a real disorder.

This task is not easy but I am going to do my research and start from there. I am wondering what I should look for in a therapist, what questions should I ask? Will I even have the courage to ask questions at all with my anxieties...probably not. But this is important to me. I have to find the perfect therapist for me because this time I am in it to win it.

I contacted a therapist a few weeks ago and made an appt. but it turns out that she is not a participant with any insurance companies so I would have to pay out of pocket. That is a huge obstacle for me. Now I have to find someone else.

One more thing, I am not sure why my doctor always prescribes Lorazpam to me. It doesn't do anything for my anxieties. I take it anyway, hoping each time will be the time it works. Sometimes I take more than prescribed but still no results. I did some research and I am going to ask about PaxilCR.

I will be 30 next year and I don't want to have to deal with this issue when I enter that stage of my life. I want to be able to focus on other things. I have been struggling with anxiety for too long. I am sick of it. I want out of this horrible relationship.

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3 Day Weekend

Today was one of my easiest days at work. It seemed like my anxieties were at an all time low. Maybe its due to the fact that I had about 4 lorazpams and some alcohol to soothe me. I usually get nothing out of the 2 but today they worked wonders.

I was on the phones all day and did not have time to come up for air but I made it through the day looking forward to my 3 day weekend. I am in limbo as to whether I should move back east or stay in the westcoast. It seems like the whole time I was here I yearned for the east and now that it is getting close to that time that I have to decide, I am in limbo. This job seems to be an opportunity for me to grow and maybe get promoted or just have opportunities to build myself as a career woman. However, I miss my family, I miss the city, I miss the east with a passion. I have had some bad experiences out here in the west but they were learning experiences more than anything. Maybe my wanting to go to the east is just another way of escaping just like I escaped when I came out here.

I confuse myself.

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"Don't worry," she said. "You'll grow out of it."

My weekend started today. I spent my day off from work, cleaning and having a blast online, while the television kept me company in the background. If I were as social in real life as I am online then this would be the end of my blog. Unfortunately, I am what others call 'painfully shy'. And I don't use the word 'painfully' loosely. Since I can remember, I have always been shy and here I am at the age of 29...still as shy as I use to be and maybe even moreso.

So, I welcome you on my journey to overcome this debilitating condition. I am not sure what my first step will be but I am making a conscious decision to take my life back. I want to enter my 30's stronger than I have ever been in my life.

I have tried to overcome my social anxiety/phobias many times but for some reason I always met with yet another obstacle that made it difficult (i.e. lack of adequate health insurance to fund my therapy sessions, etc.)

I will share the events of my life as a 29 year old black woman struggling to overcome my shyness in this aggressive world and by the end of my journey I hope to walk into my 30's as a new woman.

So join me. Share my tears, my triumphs, my fears, my worries, my progress, my relationships, my life.

My journey starts today. Are you with me?

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