Overwhelmed

Insert screaming or twisted face emoji here. I know that I’m not alone when it comes to social anxiety, but it definitely feels that way with the people that I know. So, this post is dedicated to those introverted extroverts who like company but hate people at the same time. I feel you. I understand the struggle of being surrounded by a sea of people, feeling alone and still wanting to hide in the fucking bathroom at a party or just leave because your social battery is at 30% after getting dressed to go out.

Siri, play “Overwhelmed” by Royal & the Serpent.

All of these faces that don’t know what space is. In crowds I shut down. I’m overstimulated. Nobody gets it. Say I’m too sensitive. I can’t listen cause I’m eyeing the exits…

These lyrics describe me to a tee when I’m out in public at a club/bar, at a house party or pretty much any social setting minus a restaurant because good food is comforting. I’m speaking like a true fat kid. I can eat my way into feeling better. There’s nothing more disappointing than paying money for food you don’t like. So, if the food is good then I’m fine. Again, I ate for comfort in the sixth grade when I was lonely. That’s probably why I’m an overly self-conscious, socially anxious adult. Ah…enlightenment!

Sometimes I still think of myself as a 130-pound 12-year-old instead of a 120-pound 5-foot-4-inch 34-year-old.

This mind isn’t mine. Who am I to judge? Oh, I should be fine. But it’s all too much.

You ever feel like emotions sweep over you like a tidal wave? That’s how it feels when I’m out in public. I go out thinking I’m going to have a blast and I say to myself “I feel good. I’m totally fine. I look gorgeous and all is right with the world.” Then the narrator voice comes in saying “But everything was not right, and she had a terrible time.” That is usually my nights out because while you get to see the pictures before I overdrink and overthink…I usually end up puking in an alley if I’m in Ocean Beach or going home and throwing up if I’m Downtown. Ocean Beach gets the grimier me but that’s ok because it’s Ocean Beach and I don’t really care what they think. 90% of the people there are stoned half out of their mind and won’t remember anyways.

The other thing that gives me social anxiety and my friends are just oblivious to this — They are overly observant of the fact that Black men don’t hit on me. They are also blissfully unaware that after it is brought to my attention that I shut down after it’s brought to my attention. It kills my vibe. I just want to be blissfully unaware that I am not Black enough to some folks. In reality, I’m the first one out there protesting for Black Lives Matter. I went to one by myself, unafraid of cops with Billy clubs. So, look here…I am PLENTY Black. There are different types of Black folks. I just happen to be from the Burbs of San Diego, listen to all types of music and speak with subject-verb agreement. I can’t twerk. I wish I could, but I just didn’t get that gene. And that’s perfectly fine. Like Popeye said, “I am who I am. And that’s all that I am.” I still get hyped when I hear “Cash Money taking over for the 9-9 and the 2000”.

My social anxiety has lessened since I’ve learned that being me is ok. It only took me 34 years, but we all have our journey. We can’t constantly compare ourselves to others because it will literally drive us mad. There are enough people judging us. Do we really need to judge ourselves too? Just be free. Do you. The rest will fall into place. And if they don’t like it? Fuck ‘em! Middle fingers extended.