I have gaps in my memory. When people share memories of their childhood,
high school and university days, I cannot relate. Truth is I was so hyper focused on my
thoughts that I couldn’t simply enjoy the moment. I was preoccupied by the discomfort in my
body, rigidity, an inability to relax.
I could hear myself breathe, the loudness of my footsteps when I walked
into a room, the squeak of my voice when I spoke aloud. I used to laugh inappropriately or not
respond at all. While speaking with
people, I would become preoccupied with worry about what they were thinking of me.
I do remember an assignment in university
that required I present to my class. The
previous year I opted out of a public
speaking class, due to fear of standing in front of people and having to string
together intelligent thoughts. And then
there I was… I had to do a presentation with no public speaking class to ready
me. And so, I prepared, I spoke and
then I returned to my university apartment and cried my heart out because I
felt it went so poorly. Then, the next
day a few classmates congratulated me on my presentation. So, obviously, my perception was not in line
with reality. And, I received a reasonable
grade. And so this was the cycle, become
overwhelmed by a task, perform the task and then cry and be exhausted
afterwards. That was university life for
me. Unless I could avoid the task altogether.
There were nights when sleep would evade me. My
skins would crawl, the covers not comfortable, the pillows not full enough, or
too full. Even though I was physically
exhausted, my mind would not stop racing.
Mornings were full of paralyzing fatigue.
And this was life for me. I couldn’t figure out how other people managed
to simply be. Were other people plagued with
thoughts of self-doubt?
When I was ten years old my family
physician told my mother that I was high-strung. I was very offended by his description of me. What did that mean? “High-strung”? No help was offered. My mother’s concerns were shrugged off. Meanwhile, I struggled socially. I had friends, but never felt like I fit.
I
was always most comfortable at home, or funny enough, on stage performing. However, I never fulfilled my dream of
becoming a performer because although on stage I felt the most relaxed and confident;
the thought of auditioning was too frightening.
But, oh, when I sang, when I
acted, I felt so powerful.
And so it held me back…this dark cloud
within me. Invisible to those around me,
but always in my way. I still have days
where I need to break away from the world around me and seek solace in
solitude. But now I just consider myself
a “social introvert”. It had to come
to a head before I sought treatment, but now I feel comfortable in my skin…for
the most part. Imagine what I could have
done if I had the tools to clear the dark cloud when I was a child. But it was my journey. By sharing my struggle, which I typically
keep within a circle of very close friends and family, I hope people with find
the courage to ask for help, either for them or for their children. There is no such thing as suffering in
silence, for in my head, it was very loud.
