Do You Give Me Anxiety?

Of the many undiagnosed issues I have, I can say with conviction that my social anxiety is the biggest one.  While it’s not a debilitating, crippling anxiety, it has caused an uncountable amount of white shirt discolored armpits, dangerously high heart rates, loss of potential friendships, feelings of nausea and binge drinking. 

The three types of people who give me the most anxiety:

1.      People of Authority

2.      Friends of Friends /Acquaintances

3.      People I Admire

The three types of people who give me the least anxiety:

1.      Men Ages 42-68.

2.      The Elderly

3.      My Mother

Let’s start with the people I’m least anxious around.  I’m looking at this group right now and I’m shaking my head, and chuckling uncomfortably because this is the most insane group ever, and I'm sure my reasoning is insanse as well.  The only way this group could be odder is if I included my gynecologist, or Scientologists, basically any type of gists.

Men Ages 42 - 68- I’ve always gotten along and felt comfortable with this group ever since I was a kid.  Growing up a widowed-child (yup), you may not consciously know it, but you’re always kind of searching for that father figure you most certainly can’t find in your Uncle Will because he is creepy and you’ve been told time and time again to “never be in a room where it is just the two of you” and “he will touch you, he touched your cousin.” I could always joke around and play with this group, just like I saw my friends do with their dads.  These men made me feel safe, like if my Uncle Will ever cornered me, they’d kick his ass.  Granted as I cruised my way into mid to late 20s, the relationships changed a bit, the line of appropriateness had been blurred and got a bit confusing, but that’s a story for my memoirs.  

The Elderly – I mean, come on, they are too cute to be anxious around unless they are having heart palpitations or telling you how they don’t believe that integration should exist, but that’s only happened to me like four times.  This is a really easy group to be comfortable in front of.  My first job was at a nursing home so maybe that’s why I’m so comfortable around the elderly. Those senior citizens were so nice to me. Maybe it was because I served them their food and if they made me angry I could have starved them to death, but hey, I guess we will never know if that was the reason. All you have to do with these people is just stay super polite to them and laugh at their jokes, in return, they will laugh at yours and they will eat you up.  And that’s just want an insecure, narcissistic person with social anxiety needs to build themselves up.

My Mother – I realize that my mom is in every post I write and that is something I will soon be taking up with my therapist.  But she is the only person I will sob in front of and the only person I will yell at if she is being stupid, and I do so because I know I can’t lose her, like legally, she signed those papers when I was baby saying she had an obligation to me until death do us part.  Okay, it was until 18 years old, but it’s the 21^st century, till death is the new 18.  The only time I’m ever anxious around her is if she thinks she is completely in the right and I’m wrong.  When that happens the only way you can calm her down is to start crying to the point of convulsions, she will then start to feel bad for losing her temper and will hug you for two minutes straight.   She may have a soft spoken Dutch accent, but when she throws those f-bombs in there, she could give the Latin Kings a run for their money.

Now, on to those who make me buy new white shirts quarterly...

People of Authority – bosses, teachers, police, anyone with some kind of power to fire me, give me detention or arrest me, you make me physically ill when I'm around you.  I fear all of you, I don't know why.  I have one of the nicest bosses in the world, the most chilled, laid back guy ever, but I cannot keep a conversation of substance with him for the life of me.  Our Monday morning exchanges go something like this:

Mike:  Hey Chandra, how was your weekend?

5 second pause. 

This is how I set up my response in my head

Chandra:  It was pretty freaking good.  Took a hike up Runyon, probably had the best tacos I’ve ever put in my mouth at this place in Pasadena.  How was yours?  Did you do anything fun with the family?  Did your daughter finish up her finals?   I can’t believe her first year in college is over already.

This is what comes out of my mouth:

Chandra: Good.

People I Admire – To me, everyone I look up to and admire are so much smarter than me and have a lot more to bring to the table, they know exactly what is happening in the Gaza Strip and they know who the Prime Minister of Great Britain is.  What could I possibly say to them to bring value to a potential conversation if I ran into them at a local blood drive, or at like a Coffee Bean?

 I went to a Chelsea Handler book signing right after her second book had come out.  The book store made us purchase a book from their store even though I had both of her books in my purse and was going to not only ask her to sign both, but also ask for a job on her show.  I was feeling confident, which usually is the case when I down four beers as quickly as I did.  Finally it was my turn and I walk up confidently ready to change the course of my life and this is how the exchange goes.

Chelsea Handler: Hi!

Chandra: (I could already feel myself slurring) Hey, they made me buy another book, I brought my own already.

Chelsea Handler:  I know, I’m sorry about that.

Chandra:  It’s cool, you are so hilarious.

By now my confidence has left my body and walked out the front of the fucking building.

Chelsea Handler:  Thank you!  I can tell you are from Jersey!

Chandra: (ecstatic she recognized the “accent”) Yeah, I am! But I’m from South Jersey and you’re from North Jersey.

I couldn’t tell you the rest of the conversation or if there even was a rest, I just remember the immense feeling of shame for the next week or so.  Like, there I was standing in front of the person who made me realize what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and all I come up with is that we are practically from different sides of the Mason Dixon line?  Needless to say, I didn’t get a job working for Chelsea Handler.

And finally my biggest source of anxiety...

Friends of Friends and Acquaintances – Your peers are the group that you want to win over the most.  So it’s only natural my biggest fear are my peers. I have a couple of super hilarious friends (just a couple, we’re not a dime a dozen where I come from) in my life who can literally light a room of people they just met 30 seconds ago on fire with their jokes. It makes me extremely jealous that they can do this because I, on the other hand need to read a person first.  I cannot be introduced to someone who looks like they want to jump me and immediately turn on my charming wit.

Now, I’m not going to be one of those assholes that says “oh yeah, I have such a knack at reading people.” But I do kind of have a knack for reading people. Although, it’s not a knack of reading if they are inherently good or bad people; it’s a knack at reading if they are going to receptive to me or not. Let’s see if I can use the word knack one more time.  There, I did it, I used knack again. 

I see myself as a funny person, probably like in the 99^th percentile in my group of friends.  My humor is all that I’ve really got going for me (that and my collarbone), so if you don’t find me funny, I’m not helping you in any way and you are certainly not helping me in any way, its best we stay clear of each other.  

I can’t tell you what the exact criteria is that I use to size up a person and get a feeling if they are going to love me or hate me, it just happens, kind of like how Rain Man can count those toothpicks.  Once I read you, 1 of 2 things can happen:

a)      If I get a positive vibe the jokes start rolling, and they can roll anywhere from ugly babies to the Magic Johnson HIV conspiracy.

b)       If I get that negative vibe I shutdown, almost into a metaphoric fetal position, and sit there quietly, drinking my beer in an unusual fast pace.

And it’s a shame that you give off that negative vibe, because I really feel like you would enjoy hearing my Magic Johnson HIV conspiracy theory.

 The moral of this post is, if you meet me, initially be very nice to me, because not only will I guarantee to make you laugh, you'll save me a bunch of money annually from white shirt purchases.