“Neo! Thanks for coming, I’m so glad you could make it!” she said, with a warm friendly smile and squint of her eyes as she held my arm. My closest friends call me that.
But for a second, I couldn’t compute her name. I remembered her face, we’re friends on Facebook, but I honestly wasn’t expecting to see her. I came here to support a few friends, but I honestly had no idea, how many friends I would be supporting and enjoy watching perform.
“Of course, glad to be here” I responded with a smile, whilst in my head, as I headed towards the restrooms, needed to breathe and be “okay” with being here — my element, my sanctuary, my small improv theater. I’ve been here many times before, heck, I even performed my stand up debut to a sold out show here to friends and strangers a month and a half ago…but right now, I was overwhelmed.
Part of it was that I was exhausted since I’ve had been sleeping at different times in the past few days, hungry because I hadn’t eaten much all day, and insufferably hot due to my long hair being damp and it being a humid December day in Texas, making it worse by the small gathering of friends and community members packed in a small room.
The other part, the bigger reason— I wasn’t used to all this attention, all this affection, hugs and handshakes and smiles galore. Everywhere I looked, a familiar face with a smile and hug waiting to say hi. Everyone seemed to miss me, something my mind isn’t really nice of telling me.
I was experiencing social anxiety.
It had been a little over a month since I’ve socialized. Of course I remembered their faces and where we’ve met. I’ve taken classes and hung out at a bar or two with these lovely people…just this current moment, I felt out of place.
I felt trapped, alone. Eyes watching me, creating this tension of them watching my every move, even though logically I knew I was part of the audience tonight, I would be watching them.
I was in survival mode, pretending I was having a good time. I wanted to submit to the moment, but I couldn’t. I was slowly getting tense, hot and cold sensations crawled throughout my body as bouts of involuntary hyperventilation ensued.
To make things worse: I was in the front row, next to two lovely friends. They wanted to sit by me, I love hanging out with them. One of them I even hung out with, one on one for an entire Saturday (saw a movie, got coffee, and caught a stand up show in the very same venue I found myself in). But now, I just felt uncomfortable being in the same room with him, with her, with everyone there.
It took literally a month and a half of me not socializing to make me feel this way. I wasn’t used to being out as much, let alone, having a room full of people who seemed so happy to see me.
You see, my mind, as intelligent and amazing as it is, has a few quirks. One of them is that it has this old narrative that I am alone in the universe, an only child (literally and figurative); someone who’s awkward and shy.
Sometimes, it tells me that I am unloved and no one really cares about me and I will die alone. Sometimes, my mind isn’t the nicest. Sometimes, I am my worst enemy. Sometimes I fall victim to an outdated model of social survival.
Yet here I was, packed in a chamber of the friendliest, kindest, funniest, community I’ve ever been a part of. People from all walks of life, coming together to enjoy each others silly humanity and be express themselves.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to be there. I wanted to be in the crowd and support my wonderful talented friends. But my mind, wanting to protected me, made a false alarm that even the well intentioned, friendliest face couldn’t “save” me.
Breathe. Close your eyes. Concentrate on a fixed point, I told myself.
It wasn’t working.
Suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore, the loud cheers and clapping, the heat, the feeling of being watched — I had a front seat to all of it. Finding an opportunity to get up (as my friends performed in front of me; me not wanting to distract and block someone’s view), I grabbed my jacket and darted to the back, where the bathrooms were. As I stood up, I sensed my friend getting spooked by my sudden movement, I wanted to tell her I was okay, but it was too late, I was committed by my overwritten survival instincts and dashed to the back.
As I walked, even in the darkness of the audience, I felt eyes on me, saying:
Is he okay?
What’s wrong with him?
He’s blocking the view!
Wow, rude!
I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. I didn’t want anyone to notice me, which is kind of impossible in a room filled with people you’ve connected with for months.
A few feet away from the restroom area, and a hand reached for me. Her warm genuine smile put me at ease for a few seconds, “Neo, thanks for coming! I’m so glad you could make it!”
Like I said before, I smiled back, truly happy to see her, for a millisecond being grounded, being okay in this interaction, this moment in time and space. “Glad to be here” I whispered and my mental mode kicked back again, and went to the back.
Finally alone, away from their warm smiles and friendly eyes, I was alone. I needed to ground myself first. I grabbed my phone and pretended to text my dad.
I made this short story (and excuse) in my mind, in case anyone would ask why I darted to the bathroom to text. I would tell them that I just needed to let my dad know when he would pick me up, which wasn’t a lie. I did need to do that, but not until the show was over. Maybe I could say it was a family emergency? Texting a new potential lover?
As I calmed down, I looked out to the stage and at the crowd. Everyone was transfixed at them. Not me. That made me feel better. I wanted to get back to the front row, I had to. I felt I wouldn’t be able to just leave my friends there.On the other hand, how dare I push back to the front, knowing everyone would see me? Would judge me?
I waited. I wanted the show to be over. I didn’t want to be rude or interrupt someone’s experience any more than I already felt I was.
Then again, if I took too long, what would they think of me? That I was too anxious? That I was “in the bathroom too long”? Or worse — If I was okay?
A part of me felt I needed to go back as to not cause suspicion that there was anything wrong with me. That I was normal and enjoying myself just like the rest of them. Ironic isn’t it? Haha.
So I did. As I write this, I realize I did this to please others, not out of my own will. I got back and sat back to my assigned seat, in between my friends.
Code red!
Red alert!
Fuck! The overwhelming feeling was back, I couldn’t concentrate too well on what was going on in front of me. Unfortunately, I already “went to the bathroom” so I was fucking stuck!!!
I wiggled around in my chair, hyper-aware of the people in the row behind me witnessing my uncommon behavior. I grabbed my jacket, feeling cold sweat all over my body, and took off my glasses. It worked, since I’m blind as heck, it sort of felt like an invisible blanket covered me.
If I can’t see them, they can’t see me was the thought.
This happened for about an hour even though it felt like eternity. My friend to my right, being the sweetheart that she is, asked, “Where did you go? I got worried.”
In that moment, again, I wasn’t thinking, I was in survival mode, I whispered to her ear a half truth: “I just got overheated. It’s humid.”
You see, it’s not until now at 6:48am that I am fully aware of what had happened during that hour. I was socially anxious, I was having a very mild panic attack disguised and blamed as being overheated.
The reality of the situation, if I were a fly on the wall, was that I was just a perfectly normal individual, in a room filled with people who cared about me and enjoy interacting with me, who was experiencing an old survival pattern for an experience his mind often tells him that he’s unworthy of such an reality.
I am a popular person! I am loved and cared for, people fucking miss me and know my face! Something my mind and in many ways, heart, isn’t used to. So it self protects.
For years living with agoraphobia, dealing with anxiety and surviving depression all on my own, has made me feel like no one really knows me. That my family is the only safe and comfortable ones.
Ironically, for years, I’ve also hoped and wished for having amazing, talented, kind friends such as these and being a social butterfly that I know I can (and have been) be.
Sometimes, my old narrative subconsciously takes over and tells me this isn’t “real” and that everyone is judging me.
The ending of all the 3 performances were great, I genuinely laughed and clapped even while in this anxious mode. I truly enjoyed it, I was just not present enough in the moment to fully be there with them.
After, I joined these wonderful people at the bar next door. Interacted with them like old times, as my feeling of social unease subsided.
If you’re one of the people who was there and noticed me at any point in time during this. This is what happened. There’s a part of me that wants to “people please” and apologize for scaring or worrying anyone, but that would be unnecessary and a bit even more awkward to say the least.
We’ve all been there, not fully present when we had a lot in our minds, even if we weren’t aware of it at the moment.
Instead, I want to say thank you for being a wonderful and kind human. Thank you for caring about my well being. Thank you for being so welcoming and smiling in my presence and seeing me for me. Thank you for wanting to spend and share a moment in time with me. ❤
