Social Anxiety: A Short Story

When I was in pre-kindergarten, when I was supposed to be sitting and talking with other children, I sat in my own corner doing what I wanted to do, barely interacting with anyone else. I felt abandoned. Most of my good friends from preschool were not there and my best friend was in another classroom. My teacher tried to get me to come and sit in a circle on the carpet with everyone else, but I spent most of my time coloring. That was one of the early signs of the social phobia, or social anxiety, that I was diagnosed with a few years ago. My aunt recently told me that not only did I have selective mutism as a young child, but that my younger cousin, Cara, has had it as well. I had not even heard of selective mutism when I was younger, but
I would be on stage in front of the whole school in a special, felt costume, running around with my friend Isabel. I was supposed to speak one line, but even with Isabel tugging on my hair, I could not say a word in front of all of the parents and siblings in the audience. That experience was so terrible that I would not go up on that stage again until three years later. This shyness, which has been prevalent in my life, followed me to first grade, in which I talked so little that my teachers did not know I could read. My teacher, Ms. Dorsey, placed me in a reading group for kids at a low reading level. We later learned in second grade, through special testing, that my reading comprehension exceeded those of most kids in my grade, but of course nobody knew that because I refused, or maybe could not speak. Later, I packed my anxiety in my backpack every day of third grade, in which I was later specifically trained at lunch so I could represent my class in the school-wide spelling bee. Fortunately, this prepared me for two more years of being on stage at future bees, in which I ended up doing very well. If only I could spell as well now as I did
Kingston. I am a fourth or fifth generation American and both of my parents have only spoken English at home since I was born. However, just like her, I have to practice what to say before saying it aloud and work on speaking loder. Selective mutism and social anxiety have been like a heavy boulder blocking my path to success and happiness for almost sixteen years now. When I started elementary school, I also started having issues speaking up or even speaking at all. These issues have followed me from pre-kindergarten to my junior year of high school, whether they cause me to speak too fast, too slow, or not at all. My voice and demeanor change depending on what mood I am in so I never know what I am going to sound like. I still hold my breath every time I have to introduce myself in social contexts and hesitate to consult adults for advice or assistance. The charismatic persona I put on in front of prestigious figures is starting to fade, as well. Even though I still get practice in with those types of situations one or twice a year, sometimes I feel like my shyness is taking over my life. Over time, I hope that feeling will go away and that my anxiety disorders will finally become manageable. I want to be as charismatic all the time as I am on occasion. Additionally, I want to appear to be as outgoing and friendly to every person I meet in the same way that I