idkwhatimdoingbutimgonnacontinue:
When I was in 4th grade, I accidentally called my teacher grandma, and I just booked it out of the classroom-
One time when I was sick (I mean 3rd day of having a fever sick, half out of it sick), I paced for 2 to 3 hours before locking myself in our bathroom and forcing myself to call into work. I then proceeded to text a coworker even though I was not sure that their number was a cell phone or not (i still am not sure O.o).
To this day, I still sprint when crossing the road because I am so paranoid that I am annoying the drivers if I walk because I might be to slow.
When i was younger (probably 2nd grade) so one told me I pee weird. I just can’t use a bathroom with other people now. I’ll hold it for an entire day before using a public bathroom.
*cracks knuckles* You want weird shit done because of social anxiety? What order you want them in? Alphabetical or chronological?
Actually, here it is. Here’s probably my best one.
I was fifteen, RIGHT in the middle of the worst time for social anxiety for me. I didn’t know it at the time but I was pretty cute. I am a book worm and like all socially anxious bookworms I was waiting at the bus stop on a beautiful summer day with my book in my face and my notebook beneath it because I take notes on things I read. Yes, the Dork is strong with this one.
I was sitting there minding my own business when a couple of dudes about my age showed up and sat on the bench at the bus stop with me. I had my book up and eyes down and so even though my stomach clenched and my hands got sweaty I didn’t think there was a high chance they would talk to me. I looked about as sociable as an ornery old man with his newspaper up.
But like I mentioned above I was a cute little thing back then and I could feel I was being inspected. I tried to write this off because, fuck it I think I’m under surveillance all the time. My head tells me that there’s at least four or five pairs of eyes watching me at all times for the inevitable moment I fuck up, just so they can laugh at me.
After several moments of the two boys at my side whispering to each other and being not so subtle about watching me one leans over- WAY over, pressing his shoulder to mine and says. “Hey, do you know what time it is?”
So. Here’s the thing. That’s a pretty innocent line. It would have been easy to go “Oh let me check my phone. It’s 2 pm.” and that would be that.
What do I do? I the awkward turtle in alaska, the fish flopping on pavement, the fucking duck at a gala that I am?
I blink at him for a long extended moment, hearing alarm bells ringing in my head, my heart stuttering in my chest and without THINKING without EXPLANATION i reach for my notebook beneath my book, click my damned pikachu pen and WRITE. OUT the time.
I don’t know if it’s that my voice quit because it was like “Fuck it, here i am able bodied and all and you won’t use me. Fine. Ciao bitch.” or if maybe I really did have a lump in my throat too big to talk over but the boy blinked at me over and over with his buddy and he was like “Oh…. thanks…” and then he leaned forward a bit more to inspect me like I was gonna make more sense with his nose pressed up to mine and he goes. “Why can’t you talk?”
Excellent fucking question. I was also wondering that myself. but now these two boys are very interested, they have in fact inched in so that it looks like I’m part of their duo making us a trio. More people are joining us at the bus stop now. I had not noticed the older man behind them. Or the grandma to my right. They’re kind of watching now too and my brain, which often thinks I’m being watched, when I’m not is now in complete and utter chaos.
Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph WHY. Why can’t I talk?
Naturally I pull my notebook to me again, because I’m all in now. I can’t tell them I can and I’m just an awkward moron unable to function so instead I write in my handy dandy notebook that I’m mute.
So far, I haven’t lied. I mean, i haven’t always been mute, it just so happens that in this moment that is what I am.
They both look shocked, and then the curiosity takes over and what I think will be the end of a conversation is only the beginning. They’re asking questions now, about how it happened and if I was born this way and how I communicate, and where do you go to school?
I’m sitting there, eyes big as saucers trying to untangle myself from this mess I’ve made but there’s no avoiding it. The bus comes. “Is this your bus?” THey ask. I’m hoping they will stay, leave me alone to avoid it and I nod. It’s not my bus. I just want to get away.
“ours too!” they cry and on everyone at the bus stop goes, me included onto a bus that is not mine.
Needless to say by the end of the bus ride everyone on that bus thought I was mute. Even the damn driver thought that it was great the boys were talking to me so excitedly. I made up some lie about needing to get off somewhere random, answering questions from strangers left and right. somewhere in my house there is still a notebook covered in these answers I gave in writing to questions I don’t remember anymore.
I got to the mall where I was meeting my friend really really late. An hour late at least and she was miffed but when I burst into tears and told her what happened she could not stop laughing that I, little nervous wreck that I was managed to talk a whole busload of people into believing I was mute.
Without saying a single word.
Just writing this story out has made me feel sick to my stomach remembering how nervous I was. Social Anxiety. Sucks.
Ink Child Writing 