The Harshest of Critics

I never had any social anxiety growing up. I was the loudest kid i knew.. actually i had no shame in it. I knew who i was. I had a big personality, i was silly and funny and i was a great listener and i loved me. I never wondered what other people thought of me... it never occured to me to care, because at the end of the day their thoughts were in their heads and i only had to concern myself with what was in mine.

Sure it upset me a little to hear if someone didn't like me, but truthfully i brushed that kind of thing off rather quickly. It wasn't until i hit my 20s that this fear all of a sudden struck me... whenever i opened my mouth to speak i felt this heat rush into my cheeks like i wasn't in control of what my mouth was doing, like i was worried about my words.

Then afterwards, after the party was over and i was alone in my head i would replay each moment, how people looked at me, what they meant by what they said in reply and how it could have gone differently. Did they think i was stupid? loud? abrasive? whinny? did i complain too much? did i try too hard? what if they think all of that is true and no one really wants to talk to me because on top of all that im ugly too... i suck.... i suck and no one will ever understand me!

This fear disables me. It stops me from saying what i want or going where i want. It stops me from being a hundred percent honest and proud of who i am.

But im my dads daughter and in true form i have too much pride to admit it, so somewhere down the noose that ive built i start to weave anger into my self hatred " no its not me that sucks, its them. They're just stupid. Who cares what stupid people think" then it loops back up tying the final knot.... " im going to be alone forever" *sniff sniff... que the sound of the smallest violin*

Of course i know that this is self sabotage. The only reason i would ever be alone forever would be because my own self loathing stops me from meeting people, going places, being my true self. So im actually the only one casting myself out like a leper.

That 5 year old used to think " what i think is important, what they think is their problem." But when "they" is me it becomes a pretty epic internal battle... one that can only be won alone.... one that's going to take a little more searching, a little more love and a little more wine.