Growing up, I’ve always been described as reserved or well-behaved. I frequently ask my parents about how I acted when I was younger, and unlike the rest of my siblings, I was considered quiet throughout my whole childhood. I’ve always had a very keen sense of memory, especially revolving around people I know or myself, but in particular, there’s always been a specific story that follows me everywhere that I go.
Back when I was in preschool, it was either Halloween or Christmas time, the teachers were gathering the class together to take a group photo. I still remember the terror of being captured in a scene that others could look back upon brought me. Due to this, I resided in hiding in a corner by myself, crying silently, because no matter what anyone told me, I was unwilling to go up there. Although it’s irrational, the thought of being perceived by others always sent me into an anguishing spiral of thoughts.
I’ve been this way since I was a toddler, and no strategy has ever been able to help me. From here stems my fear of public speaking, something I’ve avoided like my life depends on it. The thought of being focused upon and people listening to my every word is the worst case scenario imaginable for me. The mere thought of presenting clouds my mind and brings tears to my eyes, and no matter all the effort I put into thinking positively, the fear in my body always overpowers my attempts.
There’s countless memories of this fear that haunts me, and yet within each one, the stress that it places on me continues to worsen. Each time the word presenting is even brought up around me, a deep sense of horror overtakes my body.
The worst part of it all is how my body chooses to express this fear, in a form that I can hardly control. Every time I’m aware I have to speak in front of others, no matter how far away the time stamp is, there’s an impending sense of terror that follows me everywhere I go. Even if I were to receive the happiest news of my life, my mind would simply subside it to solely think about all the negative outcomes that could possibly occur. My anxiety typically becomes the worst the day of, specifically in the morning. I’ll wake up with a sense of dread that doesn’t wear off, and it feels like there’s a pit in my stomach for the remainder of the day.
This fear has followed me for the entirety of my life. I always wonder how different I would be if this fear wasn’t instilled in me, would it completely change me as a person? My anxiety has come to shape my character and my life in general, and although I wish for it to be gone at times, there’s also a sense of gratitude I have towards it. It has truly taught me to be empathetic and has brought me a sense of understanding towards other people.
If anyone reading this faces the same problems I do, although I know it’s hard to believe, no one truly cares as much as you make yourself believe. Everyone is human and that comes with being imperfect.
