by Carol Kristensen

Created on: June 18, 2008

When I stood to walk out of my cubicle at the office and head toward the ladies' room, I felt a strange sensation. Not the obvious one - impending urination - but that of fear. Exiting the department area and heading down the hallway, I noticed Max, a man I know well, walking in my direction from about 50 yards down the hall. Almost before I knew what my feet were doing, they forced me to make a sharp left turn directly into the copy room where there was definitely not a toilet. I pretended to read something on the fax machine, pressing random buttons, scanning the obscure messages on the screen, until I saw Max in my periphery walk past the doorway on toward his destination. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, I dodged out of the copy room, went straight to the bathroom and did my business.

Oddly enough, this scenario repeats itself several times throughout my day in a variety of ways. Stopping at the grocery store after work requires several minutes of positive "self talk". The kind where I tell myself, "You can do this" or "Even if you know somebody, it will be okay". I smile and send a very friendly "hello" to every stranger who makes eye contact with me as I meander through the pasta aisle. The butcher at the meat counter and I strike up a friendly conversation about the price of ground round this week. By all accounts, I appear a very confident, outgoing woman. But if my next door neighbor rounds the corner and we meet and are forced to offer normal, social niceties for a few moments, my mind propels my body into a whirlwind of strange symptoms.
Instant vertigo is my first real signal, followed by intense sweating under my armpits and my forehead. Like the vicious cycle it is, my panic then leads to me realize I'm panicking and then I become tongue tied and fumble my words beyond understanding. This only enhances my fear of "being found out" by the neighbor who thinks I'm that confident, outgoing woman I pretend to be and I sweat and fumble all the more.
All of this likely seems a gross exaggeration to those not affected by this disorder, or some grand scene out of a mystery film. But I assure you, these symptoms are real and tangible. More than once I have bid a kind farewell to my neighbor (or father, sister, child's school teacher, friend you name it) and left my cart abandoned as I made a swift dart out the door of the store, only to be forced to stop by the McDonald's drive thru for the night's meal.
For many, these moments of panic only last seconds. However, for others, like me, several hours pass before the vertigo subsides and only continual cognitive therapy will ease the pain of social phobia. The moments hit with odd inconsistency, never revealing their presence until it's usually too late. Occasionally, if I'm lucky, I won't actually feel the vertigo. Instead, after a brief, obscure encounter with a store clerk, for example, I will walk away and notice the extreme perspiration under my arms. These are victorious moments, actually. It means my mind didn't take over my body and I was able to converse with another person on a "normal" level.
Working toward more of these moments is my goal. Winning over the fear in my mind is something I aim for every day.

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