Let’s talk about social anxiety for a moment, shall we?
More specifically, let’s talk about MY social anxiety for a moment. Those who may think I am superfab, may want to read this whole ass-long entry and be educated in one of the realities of “Being Loralee”.
On Sunday, I was invited to participate in a blog reading with 10 other fabulous people (All of whom are funnier than I am. Seriously.) It was appropriately titled “Live Blogging Thingy ‘08″.
Here we are, from left to right:
Barnson, Sra, Carrie, Sterkworks, Jon Deal (Who I snagged these photos from. I am lame and left my camera in my purse.), Pete, Me (The anxiety-riddled Amazon), Sarah, Miss Pants and Singing Cicada
Looks fun, no?
This mic had incredibly good sound quality and pickup.
That doesn’t look so bad, right?
Wrong.
Before I begin I have to say that this reading was the HIGH point of the day and that I did have fun and a good time. (Promise!)
To understand, you need to hear about how my morning went before I even got up to the pulpit to speak. I have a hard time meeting new people. Especially when I am on my own. This was also the first “Big” thing I faced without having a can of Diet Coke in my hand. I know that sounds lame but as I’ve said, I feel like Linus sans security blanket.
I started off fighting with my spouse, which never puts me in a grand mood. I thought I left Provo in plenty of time to get to downtown Salt Lake. Not only that, but I alloted for “Down Time” to find a quiet corner and review my readings, put my notes in order and take a few deep breaths before going into the presentation.
That was before I came to the conclusion that the Universe considers me its favorite toy to eff with.
First, I got pulled over for going SIX MILES over the speed limit. I was also chastised for my gas door being broken and part of my front fog light grill missing. I was beginning to think that he wasn’t really a cop, but one of those people with fake badges and uniforms that get women to pull over because of some trifling thing and they end up ravaged and dismemebered in multiple hefty bags in a landfill somewhere.
He didn’t even give me a fix it ticket or written warning.
It was very bizarre.
When I left, I was so rilled that I got off on the wrong exit and then became totally lost. Not difficult to do when you have the directional sense of dirt. I seemed to get more and more lost, when it happened. I hit a pothole and my non-Diet Coke drink spattered all over the front of my shirt.
FRICK! FRACK!
What to do?
I finally found a gas station and asked for the location of the nearest on ramp. Turns out I was near Nordstrom Rack. I could write a whole post about how much I love this store, but that is a post for another day. Not wanting to risk the chance of getting lost again finding a lesser known mall location, I decided to try and find a shirt in there.
Bad call.
NOTHING FIT.
NOTHING.
Everything was either staggeringly expensive or too dressy or too tight or too hideous or too sheer and too dark to wear with a white bra.
GAH!
There was one shirt that kept catching my eye. An adorable white button down with the cutest puffed sleeves. It would have looked better with a sweater vest, but it was adorable.
The only one I could see was an extra small.
NOT.
The very flustered dressing room attendant was getting rather annoyed with my back and forth changing at record-breaking speeds. Who cared if I screwed up my hair, I had to find something to clothe my naked body.
Still nothing.
I checked my phone and saw that I had 20 minutes to get to my reading and I was still blocks away.
I made my way to the front door, resigned to show up at this event even if it meant wearing a soaking wet shirt that made me look like a nursing mother in the middle of a lactating accident, when I saw it. A peek of white puffed sleeve sticking out of the jacket section of the men’s department.
It was the shirt! In a size medium!
I didn’t even try it on, just rushed to hurry up and wait to be checked out by the cashier that was being trained.
I got into my car and raced to the library. Miraculously, I found the parking complex and changed in my car. If anyone was in the library parking lot and saw a half-dressed flustered chick in a Volkswagon Passat wagon, I’m really, really sorry.
Looking in the salty reflection of my unwashed car, I noticed that the shirt was a bit too snug and see-through, which added to the overall feeling of new, discomfort and anxiety.
Then I got lost in the library (Directional sense of dirt, remember?)
The place is huge, there were no maps and no one was available at information and I rode four different elevators to try and find someone. The only person I managed to find was the homeless guy with a slush puppy that kept getting on every elevator I was in.
By the time I found it, I was well over 15 minutes late and they were already on the second speaker.
My mouth was dry, I felt nervous, sweaty and shaky and this feeling increased when I realized that the final page of one of my posts wasn’t there.
Crap.
I scrawled down as much as I could remember on the back sheet and when it was my turn to get up to the podium, I was a freaking MESS.
My choice of selections kinda sucked. I mean, I am very proud of the entry I read about the woman in the grave next to Matthew’s, but let’s talk about bringing the room DOWN.
And my second? It was the piece I wrote about Matthew McConaughey on Friday. It wasn’t my funniest piece I’ve written by far, but I truly just didn’t have time to comb through and select a piece. I was baking fattening French food, remember?
THE WORST?
I LEFT A PAGE ON THE CHAIR NEXT TO MY SEAT.
Not the one that was missing in the first place. ANOTHER ONE.
So? I had to pull out a good 3/4ths of that post out of my ass and make it sound like I was reading it. I’ve been through lots of things like that on stage. You HAVE to learn to fly by the seat of your pants or you are DOOMED. It was kind of a blur, but I lived through it despite my throat being as dry as the Salt Flats. (I obviously failed to notice the bottled water placed so kindly on the table.)
The thing is? I usually have a dressing room to have an emotional freak out by myself afterwards.
Here? I had to meet lovely, charming people while in a state of mid-level anxiety.
Dude.
What is the worst, is the aftermath. The thinking and the analyzing on the way home. Because that is what I do. I have social encounters and then I freak out and analyze what went down and then post my shame for all the world to see.
Here are a couple of examples:
One blogger (Who shall remain anon for the time because I didn’t talk to her about writing this conversation) came up to me and said, “I wanted to pipe up and say that I like Matthew McConaugheyBECAUSE he is dirty! I think it’s a turn on. When you said you wanted to scrub him down with Lysol and a loofa I turned to my friend and said, ‘I do, too!’.”
To which, I answered some total piece of crap mumbling like, “Well, I guess it’s because when I think of him I’m picturing him as a boyfriend or husband and he’s just skanky. Maybe I should step out of the box and picture him as a dirty, whorish, one night stand to find him attractive.”
Hours later (You know, during the analyzing freak out) my mind translated that statement into the following:
“I am a pure, judgmental person who would never even fantasize about anyone outside of a monogamous relationship. Since you fantasize about “Oily Boy”, you are obviously a total whory slut who has one night stands standing up by the urinal of some random airport restroom, you slutty urinal whore, you.”
GAH!!!!
I kinda want to stick my head into the earth.
I open my mouth and lame things just pour out of it.
I’m also concerned that I may have come off as being slightly homophobic because when I was flying off the seat of my pants I am fairly certain my wording sucked and could have been misunderstood.(Which, please for the love of EVERYTHING be that not the case. I would die.).
I also rambled. OH, how I rambled.
Why can’t I keep my freaking mouth shut? Or at least train it to say non-stupid things?
When I left, one of the bloggers called out after me and we rode down the elevator together. By such a huge coincidence, the same homeless guy that I shared the last four elevators with was in the same car.
My conversation with my blogging acquaintance was very random and stuttered. I have learned to at least ATTEMPT to keep my mouth shut before unleashing anxiety and words over people. However, it’s still like plugging up a leaking hole with your finger. You may succeed at holding back a torrent, but water still seeps out.
So, what came out pretty much sounded like this:
“Argument…lost…shirt…drink…ill-fitting…cleavage…see-through…no maps…No Diet Coke…Linus without blanket…elevators…homeless-guy.”
(Tip: People LOVE this. Try it some time.)
My evening wrapped up by having decaf coffee with my friend, Rachel in Ogden. It was nice to unwind, but I’m sure I wasn’t much entertainment for her after my day.
In the end, I DID have a good time, really. I had a lot of fun and laughed at the sheer wittiness of some of these bloggers. All these people were so lovely and kind and funny. It was a blast, I just wish I had been better prepared. I also wish my social anxiety would disappear. It is much better than it used to be but MAN, does it cause me needless stress.It wasn’t nearly as bad as it has been and I know a lot of it was due to external bizzarness of things out of my control.
Still…
I need to chill the hell out.Anyone else do this? The social anxiety freak out?
Does anything that isn’t in pill form help?
Stumble it!
Filed under: 
funny stuff llc
this is why i have to have a “script” with me at all times. if i follow the words i am usually ok but when i dont the ol right brain kicks in and… next time just sing a song for them
ps you are the best looking one in the group
I don’t mean to be all “join the club,” but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the Internet, it’s that an incredible number of us crawl home to lick our wounds after pretty much any social interaction. I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not, but I think a vast number of people can relate all too well.
The worst situation is when there’s no time to prepare, like you ran into. You were already stressed out and scattered, and I know what a recipe for social disaster that can be. Still, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think, just because it really hardly ever is.
Also, elevator conversation is impossible and may very well be the bane of my existence as a high-rise dweller. I have no idea why people even attempt it. NO ONE is good at elevator conversation, so I doubt it was held against you!
Thankfully I haven’t had to speak publicly in a longtime. It is not a fun thing for me. I also know that I would have a very hard time speaking in front of people who just know me from the internet.
Getting to an event late is also horrible. You have no time to introduce yourself to people or mingle. Basically you show up and get thrown on stage. Not fun hah. But it sounds like it was an interesting day.
You may have social anxiety, but at least you are willing to go to these thingies.
I, on the other hand, think conferences and I’m all I need to do my hair and find some cute clothes that fit, and actually go out of the house and make a fool of myself. And? I smell much better on the internet.
LL,
It is never as bad as you think it is. In the off chance it is as bad as you think it is, you probably ended up encouraging someone that they are not all that messed up.
The best case is people thought nothing of it and loved getting to know you.
The worst case is a homeless guy left feeling really good about the fact that all he does is ride elevators and stare at women who wear see through clothing.
What works for me: Learning to take it easy on myself and living one day at a time.
You did the best you could girl!
Yeah, that whole “I carried a watermelon” panic-foot-in-mouth-when-you-really-need-to-be-cool feeling?
Never happens to me. ;-)
Oh yeah, I can relate. As Indian Education Director for our school for 19 years, I had to give presentations once a year to the school board… Once it was videotaped for the local news!!!! Just when I thought I was going to DIE, I looked up to see our neighbor (who is a member of the board), he smiled and winked at me and then I was better. Not fine, but better.
But you DID it!!! That’s the part you should really be proud of! I would have begged off with some lame excuse…
You survived and that’s the important part. (Or at least what I keep telling myself.)
I can’t wait to meet you. Just wait till you see how I can fit BOTH of my feet into my mouth at once.
It is a skill. One you will surely appreciate.
I’m sorry, but I think I’m the queen of social anxiety! You may speak before you think and ramble… but at least you’re incredibly funny! I, on the other hand, end up offending half the people there, and getting totally misunderstood! (remember the opera workshop class where I got totally chewed out for being a “snotty diva with an attitude- unwilling to be taught”?) All I said was Mozart wasn’t a soprano!!!!
Anyway, sorry I can’t help you with any advice. I am still trying to get to where I can leave the house again without a paper bag over my head!
A lot of people can relate–myself included. The aftermath is the worst. Just going over and over in my head like a front-loading washing machine.
The only thing I’ve found that helps the aftermath is just to…get over it. It’s really hard, but at some point, it’s all I can do. People might not like me. They might think I am a horrible wench. They might get offended because I criticised their e-wombs, which I probably shouldn’t have done. But I can’t change the past. So it’s best *for me* just to move on and try not to make the same mistakes the next time.
And at least you got invited to one of those readings! You’re famous!
Stop it! You’re gorgeous, you’re hysterical, you’re too hard on yourself.
:)
It makes me feel normal; I’m not the only one out there faking the social scene. I get out there, do it, it’s blurry, I over-analyze, I hate it!
I’m all for the pills though! Bring ‘em on, baby! Nothing says anti-anxiety like a Lexipro-Prozac Cocktail. Mommy’s little helpers. niiiiccceeee…..
(I’m (sort of) kidding.)
It turns out you read great and were totally charming and lovely. The end.
I didn’t think you called me a slutty urinal whore, and if I had I’d have probably giggled and hugged you. That would have been the highlight of my day.
You did amazing. I’d have never guessed you were without notes.
I has a dream about “Oily Boy” that night and it was a very dirty dream, indeed. I have you to thank for that. I owe you a Diet Coke. Let me know when you’re back on the juice.
How I cope with extreme social anxiety is of no use to you since you don’t/can’t do what I do. So I suggest meditation? I don’t know. But I am envious that you can get through things without a ‘crutch’.
Oh stop it..I am cringing along and laughing hysterically because that is me too.
And my best friend.
We usually go with each other to things and then nerd out together.
And she is an actor!
Oooh man.
So like if everyone makes it to BlogHer it will be filled with really anxious women saying bizarre things.
Cool
Try being a bitch. Then you just don’t give a shit what other people think.
Just so you know, my boyfriend Ian said your post about your son was his favorite. It was touching and very well-written. We already know you’re funny, it’s nice to see another side.
And I thought your shirt looked very nice. :)
I also have social anxiety issues, and I’ve never taken anything for it. I’m of the mind that a lot of psychological issues can actually be dealt with without resorting to prescription meds, so I always try to approach my problems using psychology and personal techniques. There was a period of about 2 years where I felt like I had kicked my problems for good. But they came back, and now I think it is always going to be something I struggle with, but that doesn’t mean I can’t continue to improve. What helped me kick it the first time was alcohol actually. I don’t have an addictive personality, so alcohol never became a problem, but I would see how much easier it was for me to relax under the influence, and I thought to myself, why should it be so hard sober? So I applied that carefree attitude to my sober self, and for some reason, it worked. I behaved as if I had more confidence, and in turn, I gained more confidence. I think that’s how my anxiety works, if I see that people are reacting toward me well, then I’m not as nervous. I hate that there’s a large part of me that really wants to be liked, but there you go, that’s reality.
So I’m glad you came and read, and I couldn’t tell at all that you were flustered, so way to go!
This is exactly why I don’t go anywhere, or have any friends. social anxiety.
Hey, honey. I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you thought. But I know that you probably felt like one of the early Christians being burned at the stake by the Romans while it was going on. Take a few days to get to feel better about yourself, and give yourself credit for being the awesome person that you are….
P.S. “entertaining for me?” What are you, my personal court jester. Don’t be a silly. I was just happy to see you.
Can I just tell you how much I adore you? Because I do.
Let’s see: Cran Grape and Vodka works.
Spicy v-8 and vodka.
Are we seeing a trend?
I think your outfit looks adorable: Bright spot, cute new top with a great reason for buying it.
I don’t think you sounded judgemental, you sounded honest and unguarded. Rock it.
Social faux pas are okay, they’re normal.
You’re adorable and how are you not just totally floored and honored that you got invited to this thing? I just feel honored being one of your loyal looney readers! :-)
SMooches.
Loralee- this is why we get along so well! I still marvel at how brave you were to call me and meet me when you were here in AZ, because me? I would have been too chicken to call you!
At least you got a sweet new shirt.
So. Good day then?
Oh, I excel in social anxiety! I say spread the awkwardness!
You seem to think that your social anxiety is a bad thing. Good grief, how could you have written this post without it? How many posts are a result of your social anxiety issues peppered with nervous donkey laugh? What you seem to think is a liability is actually an asset.
I am in awe of the power you possess with the law since the whole “I touched Air Supply” thing. I wonder how many times the karma of is will get you out of a ticket. haha
The analyzing! I totally do the afterwards analyzing!
I could analyze you under the table.
Wait. That sounds dirtier than I meant it to :)
Somehow I feel that Woody Allen could turn this into a movie idea. You just need to work in some angst about death and references to the works of some Russian playwright.
Loralee, this is exactly why we love you and flock to your blog. Personally, I find “frazzled = lovable,” but that might must be because I’m a nutjob, myself.
I would have loved to hear your reading, adlibs and all.
Oh my goodness, you seriously rocked! If the first half of my day had started so rocky I would have shown up with puffy red eyes. I can’t believe you managed to find a new shirt and improvise…could not tell that you were short pages!
I really liked the story you read about the woman’s grave next to your son. Life’s not all sunshine and happiness, I appreciate that you shared a personal story.
I really did enjoy meeting you! Hopefully the blogging thingy will be less stressful now that we know what to expect (myself included!)?
That was really funny and hopefully they will ask you back to read it!
Seriously, I feel your anxiety and it made me nervous just reading it. You know how people fear public speaking over death. I always imagine that I die during the public speaking (I know the power of positive thought) which is not very calming.
That was really funny and hopefully they will ask you back to read it!
Seriously, I feel your anxiety and it made me nervous just reading it. You know how people fear public speaking over death. I always imagine that I die during the public speaking (I know the power of positive thought) which is not very calming.
That is such a cool thing! I want to attend next time! How did you get involved?
Why do things like that always happen when you have to actually do something? When you just go to listen or be a wallflower or whatever you have all the time in the world and things go mostly smooth. It’s the most unfair thing.
Rubik…..quitchabitching!
You’re the best!
Yes, something will help. Diet Coke.
That was evil, I know.
From the sounds of it, you had a total Doug at the Toronto airport day! Where everything that could have went wrong did, right down to getting off the highway at the wrong exit and becoming totally lost. Then trying to drive towards where the planes were landing. UGH.
But seriously, I’m really proud of you for the whole DC thing. It’s tough, I know.
You’re so freakin’ hysterical.
BTW, I have to tell you that I am at my friend’s house right now (yeah, I am a great buddy IRL, I bring my laptop to keep me entertained) and she has a bunch of Girl Scout cookies. As my daughter has a peanut allergy and my friend had ditched the package, I tried googling to find out if Thin Mints are peanut-free.
I googled: “thin mint cookies” “peanut allergy” Your post, “It’s time to make the donuts†was two of only three that showed up…I was all happy and told my friend. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t blog.
First of all, you looked HOT! I’m a lesbo, so you can trust me on that one.
Second of all, you did a fantastic job. You seemed like a pro and I was sooooo afraid I was going to have to get up and do mine right after you.
Third, your first choice hit home for me. I always went to the graveyard in Wallsburg, UT, with my grandmother. She always put flowers on the grave of a young man who killed himself in the early 1900s when she was a girl. Just a name on a stone carved with a knife. I carry on that tradition today with my daughter.
Fourth, I too own a Volkswagon Passat wagon, and you have an open invitation to change clothes in it anytime. :)
Aww! Sorry about all the problems you had before your meeting. :(
I have the same problems and it totally sucks. I forget things and get panicked before even going to anything. I am also super prone to the nervous over sharing. It’s soo not good. I don’t even want to go into the long lists of questionable things I have blurted out in group situations.
Sounds like you did fine…for the most part…:)
But I guess what helps me is to keep in mind that everyone else has problems, and weird things about them…and probably have diet coke addictions, and problems meeting new people…So dont’ worry so much. You seem like a very likeable person.
Im Charli’s husband. You dont know me, but you know her of course. I hate social events. I hate hate hate speaking in church or at boyscouts event. I am not insecure, I think I am a good looking guy. Some would say that Im funny, but Ill cry like a baby if you stick me in front of a bunch of eyeballs, cause thats what it feels like! I freak out, I dont know why but I feel like I need to make eye contact with all of them, its just not possible to do and keep your head straight…
Thats enough from me, I will return to lurker mode. Talk to ya next year.;)
Jeremy:
I was going to respond to all of these comments tomorrow, but DUDE! I have to do the happy dance here because you finally talked to me!!!!!!
YAY!!!!!
See ya next year, dude!
Wow, I would have loved to have been there and seen you “live!”
I am the queen of socially awkward, even when I’m not nervous at all. I really don’t mind public speaking, but I inevitably end up saying something that sounds completely ridiculous. Oh, like the one time I was supposed to sing a solo in high school, and the line, from a Disney compilation, was “Be our guest!” and I sang “Be our breast!” For real. Because I am that awesome.
Also: did you like have a PowerPoint presentation right there? Because PowerPoint gives me instant hives.
All of that to say: I’m sure you did fantastic, even with being so rebellious and reckless with your speeding. 6! mph over the limit. Look out! Johnny Law.
I love your stories.
I could never read my blog aloud, unless of course it was to a group of 15 year old transvestites.
I do the same social things. I am bad in the real world, but really awfully horrible in the internetoworld. Like, trampy. I hate it.
Your posts always have me cracking up. You’re hilarious — for the things you say and also the way your adventures echo mine. I’ve become a social nitwit lately and find myself over-analyzing every situation as well. You look great in that shirt, btw.
PS. I know you always joke about being Amazonian, but seriously I would trade places with you in a second. I have always, always wanted to be tall and statuesque.
I know this won’t come as a consolation to you but I had to give my presentation on dating ideas to the youth last night and was SERIOUSLY STRESSED. I read your post moments before leaving and your anxieties made me feel so much better. Doesn’t that make you feel better? :-)
How I understand the over-analyzing!! I like to think that I take it to a completely different obsessive level– it can take days to process a single dinner party. I’m able to justify it, though. The positive spin: Post-socializing over-analysis is a little-appreciated artform!(That was a lot of hyphens…) The reality: I’m a completely neurotic social misfit.
However, during the actual social interaction I find it helpful to assume that everyone has the same anxieties and also that everyone likes me. Sounds very narcissistic, but it works. Then, if they don’t like me, I just tell myself it’s because they don’t know the REAL me. Maybe they needed more time to get to know me, etc. Or they’re idiots. Just kidding, I know there are many reasons to not like me, but I pretend and it feels better that way.
If all else fails, take some Rescue Remedy. Seriously, this stuff works like magic on chest tightness and tummy knots.
Thanks for putting words to things that we can all relate too. I love you because you are so real. :-) Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go process how lame this comment is and try to analyze all the ways it could be taken wrong.
After 20 minutes of analyzing, I realize that I wrote the wrong version of “too” in the last paragraph. And I sound really full of myself. Who knew that entering comments could be such a socially crippling event?
I’d buy one of those shirts. That would do wonders for my social awkwardness.
OH, my GOSH! I can’t believe that Jeremy commented! You are his first EVER blog comment. I am so proud!
He’s not lying either- when we were asked to speak, I let him introduce us. When he got to Hali, he started bawling. He did it when he blessed her as well. The only two times I have seen him cry in public. Ever.
I don’t drive AT ALL in big cities. I have had to drive in Houston about 3 times in my life and I hated every second of it. There are so many fun things for Hali and I to do if I can but buck up and drive through Houston. But people are mean crazy drivers here. They scare me. I just stress out waaay too much when I drive somewhere new.
I’m like 12 years late on this comment, but
YOU WERE AESOME!
The end.
Oh… and I’m *STILL* digitizing the video from the shindig. It’ll be up Real Soon Nowâ„¢
:-]
I take it, then, that you are not a real big fan of Johnny “the dirtier the better” Depp?
I am obviously a total whory slut. I want a tee shirt that says THAT!
It takes all kinds to make the world go ’round!!
PLUS!! If I had your height? I would totally go around in a Wonder Woman type super hero suit and smash people under my golden boots! You should try this. C’mon! Live my dream for me.
PLUS! get over yerself!! You are one hot mama!!
Wow! Reading this story was like reading a page from my own journal!
WHY did I not know about this Live Bloggy thing? I totally would have driven up to Salt Lake to meet you!