I can’t leave the house
Some days everything is fine. Some days I can't buy groceries
Topics: Since You Asked, Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy, Social Anxiety Disorder, Introversion, Life News
Cary,
I need … not so much advice, more like a finger point.
I have social anxiety disorder. Never diagnosed, but when there are days when I step out of the house and have to go back inside because I am convinced the world has dismissed you, what else can it be? That’s a little rhetorical, as I am not a therapist, but having a label really, really helps.
Before six years ago, “the world does not care about you because you are not worth caring about” was the law dictating my life. This stemmed from something of a hostile home environment. Of three daughters, I am chronologically dead center between two incredibly gregarious, extroverted people (my older sister, to this day, can go to random states for work and can score a couch to crash on). I was debilitatingly shy, and I don’t know if my mom favored my sisters’ extroversion but it did mean I got overlooked a lot, and when I subsequently wilted from that she regarded my perceived weakness with scorn (and when I naturally did poorly in school, she taught me love was conditional). My dad worked too much, which was too bad because I still get along with him best of all.
Similarly at school I was equally overlooked. I did get a pretty tight coterie of male friends, but I maintained emotional distance so I wouldn’t drag them down. Despite them I grew up alone and isolated, and thus became very independent, but also very stuck.
But then I graduated from high school, and after a year slumming in a community college I worked in a cannery in Alaska. This was not only somewhere that wasn’t home, but a total paradigm shift. Suddenly, I was working 18-hour days doing manual, mostly mindless labor. The only thing people cared about was if I worked hard. I did, so they loved me (I was promoted twice during my 18-month tenure there). I gained friends, lovers, and even compiled a surrogate joke family. With that kind of positive reinforcement I took root and sprouted.
Now, three years after leaving Alaska for good, I am writing this email in the house that my fiancé and I own. I have a job that is fulfilling and very people-centric, in an industry with room for a lot of professional growth. I can tell people I am shy and they won’t believe me. I have a downright amiable relationship with each of my immediate family members. I have emotional boundaries in place. And I have friends in my life I can fall back on, and vice versa. I have salvaged a good life for myself.
Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column and leads writing workshops and retreats.
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