Hello, my name is Kevin and I have a problem. No, I am not an alcoholic, nor do I have a drug problem. I have a plethora of issues that I am finally going to attempt to fix. What am I talking about? Well, I'll take you on a little trip.
Ever since I was young, I was generally freaked out by people. I am not sure when it started, but I always tried to keep a distance. I always had friends, but was pretty much anonymous and unremarkable. I never went out of my to talk to people. Honestly, I am not sure how I made friends at all.
In high school, my issues only got worse. I battled acne, which pretty much made me feel like no girl wanted to touch me. I never went on a date or a dance. I spent prom night fucking with customers at my job at McDonalds. This anxiety held me back from experiences that most kids treasure the rest of their lives. I was a prisoner, and could not bear the thought of asking a girl out.
Eventually, the problem got better. I developed relationships and thought the problem was gone. However, the simplest tasks were and still are, difficult. Sometimes I get paranoid going to the store and having to ask someone for help. Completely irrational.
I still do not have many friends. Partly by choice, and partly out of fear. I am not sure why the fear is there, but it steers the wheel. I always feel that people will judge me. That they will see the flaws that I have, instead of seeing the Kevin I see. I actually like myself, and I am sure people would too. Instead, I keep it to myself.
I have documented about the recent end of my relationship. The whole situation has really fucked with my self-perception. It has questioned my faith in people, and made my anxiety worse. If someone I let get close to me turns out to not be the person I thought they were, then what will someone I do not know do to me. After doing some research, I decided it was time to get help.
I exhibit every symptom of Social Anxiety Disorder. I realize it sounds like a bullshit disorder, but it is very real. Essentially, the person who suffers (me) from the disorder gets paranoid in social settings. They are overcome with stress, anxiety and fear. This describes the first 27 years of my life.
I made an appointment to talk with a doctor. The treatments that usually ensue are a combination of pills and therapy. Talking to some quack about my feelings is scary as hell, but its the first step. We are all doomed for history to repeat itself, if we do not make changes. If you bitch about your weight constantly, but make no effort to do anything about it, you deserve to be miserable. If I bitch about the anxiety I have, yet make no changes, I deserve any misery that comes with it. This one is all on me.
I am writing this, as I hope this is a beginning. An evolution of myself, becoming the best person I can be. A happier, more fulfilled person. Treatment may not help, or could make things worse. Who knows? But I owe it to myself to try. We need to whatever it takes to be happier. This is my first step.