This is something I’m going to find hard to talk about. I’m not suggesting that it’s an intimate subject for me (it could be, though), but it’s something that’s not entirely confirmed yet. I’ll explain later on.

Social Anxiety is the condition of feeling unreasonably anxious in social situations. Often, what might be perceived as shyness may just be a mild form of Social Anxiety. On the other end of the spectrum lies violent mental breakdowns when simply in the presence of people.

Avoidant Personality Disorder (AvPD) is similar whereby the symptoms of Social Anxiety inhibit a person’s personality more. These two diagnoses come very much hand in hand, however AvPD is a debatable and simply theoretical.

One thing about these conditions is that, even though they may be fearful of social situations, they actually crave acceptance from their peers. Baring this in mind, with their fear separating them from social situations, they become excruciatingly lonely and depressed.

As for my story, it’s somewhat more complicated. To be honest, I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’ve never been diagnosed. I’ve seen a doctor (from my school clinic, not a psychiatrist) who was very reluctant to say anything, other than seeing a counselor might be a good idea.

I have, more or less, confirmed to myself that I have this condition. Whether it’s Social Anxiety, AvPD or both, I really don’t know (and especially as time goes on), nor do I care. From what I’ve observed in myself, I have a problem, and it conforms to every sources take of these types of conditions.

Once, last Halloween, the school hosted a party for the students. The week leading up to it, people were constantly discussing what they might wear as their special costume for the event. As I considered the situation, I had plans on avoiding, but I knew that was pretty much out of control.

On the night (it being a boarding school) I hung around the TV room, trying to distract myself. Just a few typical sitcoms, and cartoons, the kind of thing the guys in my house usual hate. It was at this point that I noticed that nobody was in, and that they must be at the party, which got me down again.

As I would usually do that late at night, I would take a walk around the grounds. The fresh country air, I thought, would do me the world of good. I would take a trip in a circle around the ground, maybe even go to the chapel at the top of the hill. Not go inside, just sit outside on the bench. I wouldn’t bring my phone or iPod, just a jacket and a few thoughts.

My trips would be quite random, but, of course, on this particular night, I led myself right outside of the door to this party. I could hear the deep bass from the music vibrating the walls, and the cheering and laughter of those inside.

I wasn’t wearing a costume as I never thought I’d need one. Luckily, someone I knew walked poked out the door and spotted me. When I say someone I knew, not a friend (or at least I don’t think so) but someone with whom I’m on friendly terms.

She comes out wearing a brownish trench coat. At first, I couldn’t tell she was even wearing a costume. Turns out, she didn’t want to wear anything, so slapped on this jacket and called herself ‘the doctor’ from Doctor Who. Good effort, I thought.

She encouraged me to come inside. Once I did, things took a turn for the worst. Being who I am, some people were eager to have me join in.

But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t summon the enthusiasm to join in the raving and dancing.

Suffice to say, I was deeply, deeply ashamed of myself. So ashamed, I had a near-fatal, mental breakdown. I walked outside again, hid in a dark alleyway, behind a bin, and cried; just cried.

I knew I had messed up. I had a chance to make some new friends; people who I don’t normally hang around with but wouldn’t mind. I completely blew it. I was nearly going to commit some form of suicide, or at least that was on my mind.

I told my doctor this testimony, but she stands firm on her position. Counseling is the answer apparently. I don’t know. There’s more to my problems than that. What do you think so far, though? Does anyone have any experiences or feelings like this? What was it like?

Come back next week and read up about my recent thoughts.

All work is of the authors credit and opinion, and does not represent that of any social, political, or ethnic group. Images used were obtained by Stock Free Images.