When I was at my lowest point with my social anxiety, lying in a dark room with all the curtains closed, befuddled as to what was happening to me, I knew I had to do something.
I first had to stop with the bewilderment. Yup, it was true that for thirty years of my life, I’d never had a problem in social situations, didn’t have much trouble talking in front of large groups – in fact, I was a singer and had performed in several clubs and restaurants. I had earned my teaching credential, no problem, and I had taught high school for ten years. And here I was, terrified of doing anything that required me to communicate, give instructions, or interact with others, particularly in situations where I had previously been revered. And while I would eventually come to have a better understanding of what was happening to me, for the time being, I just needed to accept it.
And then, I needed to 1) be brave, and 2) take very small steps.
Here are examples of my small steps toward facing my social anxiety:
1) Since my first panic attack causing the onset of my social anxiety came when I was leaving a message on an answering machine, I faced my fear by forcing myself to call people. I started with people I was very comfortable with or people I didn’t know at all (i.e. a customer service person) and calls that were of little consequence.
2) I signed up for a teaching workshop where I wasn’t in charge. I attended, and I wasn’t required to facilitate anything. I could just be among other teachers and interact at my own comfort level.
3) For teaching, I planned “safe” lessons with an “out,” meaning that I kept students busy doing activities that were not solely focused on my delivery of information, and when I did need to deliver information, I had Plan B if I felt myself begin to panic (example: written instructions available, and I’d ask a confident student to read them aloud).
4) I didn’t expect too much of myself; it was okay if I couldn’t perform at my previous super-duper overachiever level. I was being brave, doing my best, and this was survival.
The results? The more I “faced the dark” with small steps, the more my confidence grew. And when I combined bravery and small steps with “learning to ride the wave,” with my visual metaphor, I was well on my way to recovery.