by Meg Jack

Created on: May 01, 2008

It was the first day of first grade and I stood in line for the bus on the corner of our street with my two best friends Meg and Kate. They were sisters, one was a year older than me and one was a year younger. As we stood there waiting for the bus an feeling of anxiety took over me, where was I going to sit? What if no one wanted to sit next to me? What would people think? My 6 year old brain was traveling at a mile a minute trying to solve the problem. My solution was this, "Meg- your mom told me that she wants you to sit next to me. She wants me to watch out for you on your first day of school!" Phoosh, I took care of that, simply take advantage of the kindergartner! That afternoon her mom was at our doorstep. "Meagan, it was nice of you to look after Meg but she can take care of herself, she can sit next to whoever she wants." I was left in tears.

At 6 years of age, I was already an ultra-sensitive child afraid of the world. The thing was, I didn't like to admit to it. So I just hid as best as I could. Instead of showing how hurt I was, I kept a blank face. Instead of putting myself in situations where I could be hurt, I just kept to myself. It took me fifteen years to break out of my shell.

There is no way to describe what it's like to have social phobia except to say that you're just plain awkward. I was the child at the birthday parties who never wanted to participate in any of the games because she was afraid someone was watching and would think she looked dumb. I didn't want to have a "crush" because I didn't want to seem silly. I feared being called on in class. I hated PE so much that I made my mom come pick me up early every day just so I didn't have to run the mile in front of everyone else- I didn't like to be watched. It's a constant feeling of paranoia- what are people thinking? What am I doing wrong? Why don't they like me?

I was always completely silent. Growing up there was no quieter child than me, and I even got teased by teachers for how hard it was to hear me. I figured the less I said, the less people would talk to me.

In middle school I dreaded walking from class to class, just walking through the halls was pure torture. Which route could I take where I would go least noticed? I always thought I saw people talking about me, or laughing at me.

By high school I practically lived in my own world. While everyone else was going out on dates and partying with their friends, I was with my mom- my only friend. I was at home all weekend, hiding from the outside world.

It wasn't until I was 19 and had a mental breakdown that things changed. When I had a manic swing and suddenly became talkative and social- well, then I chose all the wrong people, and all the wrong things to do. For the longest time, things have never been right.

Now? I'm semi-normal, I guess. I suppose you are as normal as you believe yourself to be. I have one best friend, since the fourth grade. Somehow I'm engaged to a man who sees past all my flaws, the most incredible man on the planet. He sees me for who I am past the shell of the person I've created, the person I am around my family, the person that I would love to be for the rest of the world. If only I knew how.

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