One of my first memories is when I was two years old. I believe I was at my mother’s doctor’s office, and an older kid came up to me and asked me how old I was. I remember that I was two because I held up my two fingers to indicate a two. My great-grandmother said, “Oh, he’s bashful.” She used to say that a lot.
Some people who have recently met me may be surprised to learn that I dread social interaction. People who have known me my entire life, however, would not be surprised.
Sometime around the age of five, I was diagnosed with Selective Mutism, a rare disorder that renders individuals unable to speak in uncomfortable situations. Around fifth grade, I slowly grew out of it among teachers and authority figures. Around middle school, I grew out of it among my peers. The problem being is that you can’t take back all those years.
On and off throughout my life, I have been able to wear a confident mask. I’ve always used humor as a crutch. Some people, however, can sense that you’re overcompensating, and then you’re subsequently “too much.” If I’m not being quiet, I’m being annoying.
As selective mutism fades, it morphs into social anxiety. Many people associate “social anxiety” with simply being shy. In reality, it means that my heart is pounding before a major social event. It means that it’s extremely difficult to trust others. It means that you try extremely hard not to make others uncomfortable with your social awkwardness to the point that you sacrifice your own comfort.
Nobody realizes that the fundamental core of social anxiety is a fear of negative evaluation. Naturally adept at reading people’s faces, I am constantly scanning my environments for threats. Another way to put it is that I overthink. Most people generally assume that most people are basically good until they see reason otherwise. The social anxiety approach toward life is to assume that most people are fundamentally bad until you see proof otherwise.
Since coming to The Spectrum, I’ve had the opportunity to speak to many remarkable people. This semester alone, I’ve conducted roughly three hours of interviews. These are people that I otherwise never would have spoken to. All social anxiety goes out the window as I enter my “interviewer mode.” I think it’s because I have a legitimate or “professional” reason to speak to people.
My New Year’s resolution is to stop obsessing how others perceive me. Will I? Doubtful, but I must say writing this has simultaneously felt like a religious confession and a weight being lifted off of my chest.
In the future, I hope to write a feature about UB students who have social anxiety. If any of this has resonated with you, by all means, reach out to me.
More importantly, my real hope, however, is that somebody who feels alone reads this and feels seen. An estimated 12.1% of US adults experience social anxiety at some point in their life.
Even though I am a misanthrope, when I’m being rational, I recognize the fact that humans are wired for social connections and that social connection is ultimately a net positive in one’s life.
Jacob Wojtowicz is the assistant features editor and can be reached at jacob.wojtowicz@ubspectrum.com
Photo: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
