shegetsreal - Tumblr blog

[shegetsreal]

i really really need my roommate to be fucking gone. i’m tired of feeling so afraid and uncomfortable in my apartment. literally she walks in the door and i can feel my blood pressure rise and pressure in my chest. i fucking hate this

[shegetsreal]

What Social Anxiety Means to Me

[Let me preface this by saying that I have never gotten a professional diagnosis r medical help for what I consider to be my social anxiety]

To me social anxiety means avoiding situations in which I cross boundaries. If I am not meant to be in an area (ex. an employee-only area) I do not go there. It makes me feel wrong, out of place, and I have issue when forced into those areas.

To me social anxiety means avoiding situations in which I am depended on to carry the conversation or mood. Hanging out in groups is okay because the focus is not always on me and I don’t feel the pressure to small talk, but one-on-one situations? Only if I have known you for a ridiculously long time (and even then it’s not guaranteed). Yes, this does make dating incredibly difficult. I like a guy and then I feel the pressure and poof! I stress the guy away.

To me social anxiety means not texting first. Yes I know texting is literally meant so that you can have a conversation when the person is busy, or periodically through time, but I feel like I’m interrupting them and their lives. That is not okay, and is unacceptably in so many way.

There’s obviously more than that, but these are some of the biggest reasons I define myself as having social anxiety.

[shegetsreal]

               She sat there, staring. How long had it been? It felt like ages to her, years even. The room about her was loud, various things causing the everyday commotion she was so used to, yet in her mind there was silence. What had happened in the past few years to dry the lake that was her creativity? Once upon a time she loved creating, loved crafting new worlds for her (and others if the idea was good enough) to jump into.

               Words were literally failing her, and it wasn’t just writing in which she was lacking creativity. Painting, crafting, cooking, even in doing her henna she felt stuck and trapped, lost in a world of blankness.

               She sat there, staring at the screen. Sentences and words were written, rewritten, and finally deleted. There was no satisfaction in her quality of work, even now. She did not claim to have talent in writing, but where was her once beloved refuge?

               The stove sizzled in the kitchen as her mother crafted dinner, sending a mix of scents into the stale air of her home. The television rolled commercial after commercial, each offering a newer, better, bigger product. She sat still at her computer, noise and scent and sound drifting through her brain.

               And yet she still had no inspiration.

[shegetsreal]

Why I made this blog

So this side blog is just a way for me to tell about things in my life, funny or sad, without putting it in without all my nerdiness. I don’t even care if my tales and explanations get any notes or anything. I just want to tell my story.