PERSONAL
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Post-Event Rumination
10 months ago636 words
The worst parts of social anxiety aren't during the dreaded event, but before and especially afterwards.
I wrote an overly long blog post here less than 24 hours ago going into excessive detail about my first time around a group of strangers in years. I talked about how I was surprised by how 'confident' I felt about speaking up during the event, and how while there were a few moments where I was concerned my social ineptitude was off-putting to others, for the most part I left feeling rather elated, like the whole thing was a big success, a step forward out of this pit I've been in for too long, maybe even that the severe social anxiety I've always understood myself as having had magically got better as I'd got older or something. (Can't remember if I said all that in the post exactly, but that's generally how I felt.)
I normally sleep at 9pm (to wake up at 5), but the class ended then, and my buzzing mind afterwards kept me awake several hours longer than usual. That combined with the unusual stress of doing something so unfamiliar left me exhausted yesterday, so I decided to just spend the day writing that blog post and then relaxing, resting on that success and pleasantly hoping for the possibilities the next class might provide.
Instead, mere hours after writing the post yesterday, the self-flagellating thoughts began seeping in. Specific memories about things I'd done or said, the way I must have come across as naive, weird, insane in a threatening way, a socially inept pest who everyone there would rather didn't show up the next time. I started cringing about going into such excessive detail in my blog, too. Sane people don't do that kind of thing, have those kinds of thoughts. I'm messed up. Pathetic. There's too much wrong with me. Why even try? I should just go and rot away in a cave and never interact with anyone again.
This
post-event rumination is one of the hallmarks of social anxiety disorder; the anxiety isn't confined to the event it's associated with, and much of it blossoms aftewards, sometimes leaving scars that last for years or a lifetime. The experience of cringing at something you did or said years ago seems universal, but for most people seems to be reserved for
extremely cringeworthy things (eg telling an inappropriate joke to a table full of people who all respond aghast), whereas for people with the condition I'm saddled with, the majority of interactions create those painful core memories. Or at least that's how it feels immediately after the event.
I'm not writing this because I know what to do about it. I suppose awareness of what's going on - it's the demons speaking, their poison isn't truth - is the best I can do.
Mostly I'm just writing this because I was trying to work on Dreamons, but kept getting distracted by these thoughts. Maybe writing them out here will give me some peace and I can get to work? We'll see.
I envy those of you who don't have to deal with a mind that does this!
Actually, I'm feeling physically ill too, like I've got a cold. It'd make sense, since I just spent time around strangers - in Winter, too - and likely picked up some viruses I've not developed immunities to.
I was fine yesterday, though; it takes a while for the infection to incubate.
I suppose the parallels there are interesting, and the 'solution' is probably the same for the rumination and the cold: just waiting until they run their course and clear up on their own, distracting myself from the unpleasant feelings as much as I can in the meantime.
Anyway. Back to Dreamons. I'd like to write about that again soon.
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