(this is kinda long, sorry!)
I hate being asked to explain my S.A.D. to people because I get interrupted with dumb questions or put downs like "you just need to get over it." If you were actually interested enough in the beginning to ask me then why do you cut me off? Why do you not let me explain everything and then shut up and not try to therapy me in your own little ways. It's just plain annoying.
I've always been the shy type. The sweet blonde haired, brown eyed shy girl. Loud around friends and family, sure, but not around strangers.
Starting in second grade I was teased and tormented by everyone around me for no real reason in particular. Just because kids are brutal. I began to not want to go to class just to get away from everyone. It got worse every time I hit growth spurts. It truly truly sucks to be 1-2 feet taller than everyone around you at the age of 8. Oh and heck, try being a full-figured 11-year-old getting mistaken for 18. (My dad once referred to me as '12 going on 25'.) The mocking never ends. I even had nicknames! I was the Jolly Green Giant for a while then my friend and I were the Twin Towers. In 4th grade this friend moved in and a former friend named Jenny pulled her aside and explained who was popular, who she should be friends with, and invited her to join an "Everyone But Susannah Club." I tried making friends with my teachers so I wouldn't have to be outside for recess. That made me more of an outcast.
One day, in 5th grade, I wore a mustard colored shirt and blue & white striped denim shorts. Two über-popular girls walked to up me at recess and said, "Susannah, do you really think orange and blue go?" I said yes not even knowing what they were referring to. They laughed menacingly and walked away. I remember saying to myself, "But it's from GAP!" before starting to tear up.
I hated going to school so much. I hated being around people. My grades slipped dramatically. I got my first D in 3rd grade!
From 2nd grade through 12th grade I was so scared that I was going to do something and make a fool of myself in class that I couldn't pay attention. I was scared of asking my teachers for help. It was an irrational fear, of course, but that wasn't going to persuade me to do it.
High school was horrible because my grades started to matter. I was in tears walking down the halls on numerous occasions. Scared of everyone around me. Absolutely sure I was being talked about by the people I passed. Horrible because being a chunky girl is something people made me feel I should be horridly ashamed of. I couldn't fit into the trendy clothes, few cute shoes are made in size 11. I mostly wore too-big shirts and stretch pants. I went through school hating myself and everyone around me.
I also couldn't answer phones, nor make phone calls.
I was brilliant but failed out of a lot of my classes. I sluffed so many classes. I would get physically sick just thinking about going to class. I couldn't handle sitting there with 30+ of my peers. Aerobics was the very worst. I felt that EVERYONE in there was watching me, the chunky super tall girl bobbing around the back of the room. (That wasn't just an irrational fear - most really were!)
I had an English class from the wrestling coach who ignored me except when I was late. Then he acted like I was the only person in the room and would chew me out before I could take my seat. I hated him WITH A PASSION. The class was full of the jocks and cheerleaders, the very groups who tormented me so much as child. I couldn't pay attention worth ANYTHING in there. I failed out.
So, I had to retake that class from a different teacher. I was a year older than everyone in there, so I didn't know anyone. I was so freaked out to be in there. I hated it. I failed out.
I did not graduate high school. I went to graduation and watched my friends get their diplomas. I watched the druggie skaters who rarely went to class get their diplomas. I watched people who I thought had dropped out of school get their diplomas. Yet there I was sitting in the stands with their parents.
I became so scared of people around me that I didn't leave the house without a sibling or a friend. When at a store I had my friends buy things for me, there was NO way I could talk to a salesperson!!! It annoyed my friends SO much, but they were nice enough to do it.
I went on six dates my entire high school career. I was the worst date, ever. Even when I knew the guy! When thrown into a different social situation with them I froze up. I said possibly ten sentences the entire time, EVERY time.
The Pivotal Point:
One day in about 10th grade (about 1999) I was watching Oprah and she had Jonathon Knight (of NKOTB) as a guest. He was talking about his struggles with Panic Disorder. I cried through the whole episode. It was the very first time I realized that I might have some sort of disorder. I distinctly remember thinking "this isn't exactly it, but it must be something!"
I didn't think much about finding out what it was soon after that, I was too concentrated on the extreme fear.
Everytime I was out in public or near strangers anywhere I was struck with fear. Not just a little sense of fear but an intense feeling of panic. My mind started racing, my hands shaking, my words were quiet and jumbled, I had heart palpitations, basically the feeling that I could die right then and there.
September 2002
While at the Orem Public Library I wandered past the "Staff Picks" section. Sitting there was Donny Osmond's book. Being the little celebrity-obsessed gal I am I checked it out. I laid on my bed and read the entire thing in a few hours. Near the end of the book he started to talk about his anxiety attacks. As he gave information on the disorder, he explained perfectly what I was suffering so terribly with. I probably cried, hahaha. I was so excited to finally know the term "Social Anxiety Disorder"!!!
I told my mother I thought I might have this disorder. She scoffed (which really didn't help.) I got online the next day and looked up all I could find on SAD. I printed off about 5 pages and highlighted things and case studies that I felt applied to me. I gave it to my mom. She still had a very "no you don't" attitude about it all. Here I was excited to finally know what was wrong with me and there was my mother stomping me back down.
A few days later a neighbor, who is a child psychiatrist, came by the house to talk to my older sister, Deborah. I asked Deb to ask the lady about SAD. She told me to ask her myself, but I was sooooooo scared to. I asked Deb again to please just say it. She again refused. I stood nervously nearby, my mind racing and my hands shaking. As the lady was about to turn to leave I told myself "It's now or never!" I suddenly spewed, "Do you know about Social Anxiety Disorder???" The lady stopped and looked at me for a moment, trying to decipher what I had said, I assume.
She soon said, "I know a bit about it, why? Do you think you have it?" I got scared. I didn't want to talk to some neighbor about something I couldn't even talk to my family about! Finally I said, "Yeah, I think so." She asked me to explain a few of my symptoms. I told her about not being able to leave the house without a friend or family member. She seemed really worried, I got more scared. She said, "I think you may have agoraphobia!" I said, "No, no, I just don't like being around strangers." She set up an appointment for me to come visit her the following week.
We met together. I was officially diagnosed. I started on Prozac in October 2002, and stayed on it for over 6 months.
I had the most thrilling feeling on the day I went to the store by myself. It was a great day.
Up to date I am much better. In fact, I can initiate conversation with the check-out people at stores! I still have anxiety attacks, but they usually only occur once or twice a week rather than the four or five times a day as before.
I absolutely HATE when people who have no experience with the disorder, personal or otherwise, tell me I need to "just get over it." Hate, hate, hate it!!! I also hate it when people take it upon themselves to "help me" try to "get over it". Your demanding I answer the phone instead of you then saying "See, it wasn't that bad." TICKS ME OFF. Do NOT take it upon yourself to cure me, idiot. I hate that sooooooo much.
While I'm on a little hate reign, here's another thing:
I absolutely hate it when my friends say they are "disappointed" in me for not graduating high school. What are you? my Grandmother??? What gives you the freakin right to tell me you are "disappointed" in me?!
THIS IS A LINK TO MORE INFO ON SOCIAL ANXIETY DISORDER
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