Most people that I’ve read about who have anxiety have it back to front compared to me. I can’t let anyone get close to me – not a single person it seems (although I do sometimes try).
From what I’ve seen, the majority of people have the type of anxiety where they cannot answer the door to the postperson, or go to the shops. But they are ok with close family, friends and partners.
I’m the opposite. I can’t let anyone get close to me but I’m able to open the door to accept a delivery, and I can even be quite chatty and appear confident, but I can’t keep that up with numerous chit chats over the exchange of parcels. If I chat to someone more than once or twice, I become a stuttering heart pounding wreck. People then start talking over me or looking over my shoulder which just confirms my worst fears; that I am unlikable and not worth bothering with.
I can’t let anyone get close to me because if they do, they will see the real me – not that I know who that is, because I chop and change my personality quite a bit in my attempts to fit in and be liked.
I’m like a box of assorted chocolates really; you never know what you’re going to get. It’s like I’m constantly auditioning for the role of “normal person”.
And of course, by the third conversation with me, people can see my strangeness and they flee, therefore, I pop off first before they see how weird I am.
A prime example of my back to front anxiety and why I can’t let people get close to me
When I moved into my new home in 2022, I had high hopes that I might be able to make friends with the neighbours. I told myself not to get so worked up about wanting everyone to think I’m this adorable, hilarious person they would all welcome with open arms. Or even a person who you could have a nice little chat with, without thinking I’m adorable and funny. I told myself that it shouldn’t matter if people didn’t take to me and that I shouldn’t need this validation from other people.
And I made a mental note to actually listen to people and be present in the moment, hoping my responses would flow naturally.
In the summer I would be out the front renovating my garden and I’d engage in small talk with the neighbors, trying to stick to my game plan.
Now, I sometimes do this weird thing when I first meet people; they have to say hello to me first, but then I will say an over confident hello back and beam from ear to ear. This initial interaction sets the stage for them to assume I’m always that bubbly, outgoing person.
I’m often ok on the next “hello” which will usually turn into a word or two about gardening. By this stage, I’ve rehearsed what I’m going to say (even though I have told myself over and over not to do that) and have a couple of funny things to add that might make me appear normal and nice. I will say these rehearsed little snippets to all and sundry who walk past and say hello to me. I’ll also laugh a little too loudly at any little wisecracks that they make – I suppose because I want them to feel good so that they might think I’m an okay sort of person.
But by the third “hello”, I’m flagging because this is when the banter or longer conversations start and I still couldn’t do it.
By this time, I was peering out of my front door to make sure the coast was clear before starting my gardening, and I’d quickly bob back inside if I saw anyone approaching me.
However, I did stick it out with one woman and we spoke a few times. She is one of those rare people who listen, but I discovered that even if that is the case, I just want to be home alone and doing my own thing. But I tried with her. I even went to the pictures with her a couple of times, but on the second outing, I remember we were early for the film and we sat in the foyer with cofee. A full 30 seconds passed in total silence. I just froze. She broke it by asking me awkwardly what I’d been doing that day.
I have rarely spoken to her since!
It’s an awful depressing quandary. What do you do when you want to make connections because the loneliness is killing you, but at the same time, conversations and relationships aren’t your thing.
I can handle the supermarket and even chat up officials, but it’s transactional; they’re getting paid to talk to me, so at least I feel like I’m worth something in those interactions. Hospital and doctors’ appointments are a nice hour or so out of the house for me with that mixture of transactional interaction and never or rarely having met them before.
But I am totally isolated. In fact, if I died at home, my body wouldn’t be found for months, maybe even years. I worry about that happening because of my two rescue cats. They have a catflap so I always hope they will sit on the garden wall and meow at people to be fed and that may raise the alarm.
In a nutshell, I can’t let anyone get close to me or get to know me because of my extreme fear of rejection, so if I spend my time alone, I don’t have to face that nightmare.
If you’re in the same rare boat as me, dealing with AvPD in this particular way, then I’d be surprised. I’ve never heard of anyone else with the sort of back to front anxiety that I have.
And if not and you have close friends and family around you, that doesn’t mean to say that you’re any better off than I am. Those relationships can still leave you feeling alone, isolated and depressed because they can come with their own problems which I suppose is the one benefit of being totally alone.
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