Diary of an Introvert: Coping Mechanisms (the NEGATIVE kind)

July 6th, 2014
12:39 pm
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Age: 20

Coping Mechanisms 

(the NEGATIVE kind)

Today I am going to be addressing some of the things I have noticed that I do when I am having an anxiety spike. I know that it may sound painful or harmful when I talk about it, but I am using this blog as a way to understand and work through my anxiety. It may get a little dark at time, but trust me it will be okay.

Alright, back to coping. 

The biggest thing that I do is also the easiest thing to catch me doing. I tear at the skin on my lips. At this point I don't even know when I do it. I will just be sitting in class tearing a pulling at the scabs. My lips are scarred and flaky. They crack and bleed but for some reason it doesn't matter. It is so satisfying to get that piece of skin off, even if it hurts. I have tried so many things to stop, but when I am really nervous or stressed it comes back. It is the worst when I am sad. When I am watching movies or TV shows and something sad happens I sit there crying pulling at my lips. I have done it since I was very little. My mother and Sid are the biggest ones who look out for me. They will stop me if I am doing it or hold my hand, but it is so automatic and ingrained that when I am alone I just pull and pick until there isn't anything left. I have also realized that I have started pulling a biting with my teeth when my hands are otherwise occupied. 

The other things that I do are along the same line, but they aren't nearly as violent. I scratch constantly, even when I am not itchy. I sit and listen to music or read and I am just scratching away at my chest and my arms. It isn't as detrimental as the lip thing but after doing it for 3+ hours it does start to show side effects. These little red dots appear under my skin in the spots I have been scratching. It never bleeds, nothing can ever be wiped off so it isn't as bad, I don't think . . . It happens mostly on my chest around my collar bone and on the inside of my elbows where your arm actually bends. 

The last thing is something that I have also done for a very long time. I pick at bumps and scabs on my skin. I don't create them, but once they are there I will go to town. I mercilessly attack scabs and pimples. I pick and poke and pop and squeeze until it bleeds. Pain means nothing. It is just so satisfying when the scab comes off or the pimple pops. It is like a wave of achievement. I know it is horrible. 

     "You'll leave your face covered in scars if you don't stop!"

     "Do you want your entire face to look red?"

     "That hurts doesn't it? Why would you do that?"

But for some reason I can't seem to care! Scars are permanent but a long war down the road but that doesn't even matter to me. I just poke and pick and peal and scratch all day long. It gets worse, exponentially worse when I am in a spike, but it just happens normally too. I constantly touch my skin everywhere and because of that I know all the places that I have cuts or bumps and they become other victims in this never ending parade of nervous ticks. 

I realize this was a rather dark post. I am sorry for that, but again, this section of my blog is to help me work through things. If I don't put them out in tangible words they become simple thoughts in my head that sit and get ignored with endless amounts of excuses. 

I leave you with a picture and all my love, 

Katie 

Diary of an Introvert - What That Really Means

July 4th, 2014
5:55 pm
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Age: 20

What does it really mean to be an Introvert?

This word, 'introvert', has always been something that I associated with being shy. When I was younger I thought that is was essentially the same thing. I always thought that introverts were those kids that didn't play on the play ground a recess. I thought they were the quiet ones in class who never asked you to be their partner, the ones you had to ask first. Part of that is true, it is very safe to say that people like that are introverts. However, that isn't the only kind.

Not all introverts are uncomfortable with social interaction. Not all are socially inept. Not all are reserved. 

Yes, most shy people are introverts. But not all introverts are shy. 

I am not a shy person. Ask my friends or by fiance or my family. I am not shy. I have no problem talking to new people or being a part of a debate. It is easy to make me laugh and I love spending time with people. I was in theatre for a huge part of high school. I was in seven productions and had a huge part in most of them. I can stand up on stage and belt out anything. I am still an Introvert. 

When I come home from school Sid can instantly see what kind of day I had. He knows if I had to talk to a lot of people that day because I will be silent. I will sit down on my computer and just scroll through various social media sites, he knows to leave me alone. I can only handle so much social interaction before I need some alone time. If I am forced to keep talking and interacting with other people I start to get exhausted and frustrated. 

There are other things about me that are obviously introverted characteristics. I hate parties, large gatherings of people with lots of noise makes me want to cry. I don't have very many close friends, I don't need very many to be happy. People think I am stand-offish and bitchy automatically, there is almost nothing I can do about that. I hate having plans, obligations make me panicky. It makes me feel like my whole day revolves around whatever happens to be planned and I can't stand that. 

This is the beginning of my Diary. I hope to document what social interactions and things like that do to me and how I recover so that people can see that Introverts are rude or shy or socially awkward. We are just comfortable alone or in silence, and there is nothing wrong with that. 

I leave you with a picture and all my love, 

Katie

Inspiring Music

"18th Floor Balcony" - Blue October

"Somebody Told Me" - The Killers

"Mr. Brightside" - The Killers

"Ready, Steady, Go" - L'Arc〜en〜Ciel

"Call Your Name" - Mica Caldito

Diary of an Introvert - Getting Help

July 3rd, 2014
3:32 pm
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Age: 20

Getting Help

During my breakdown yesterday I frantically texted my best friends, Zachary and Jentry. They are guiding lights in my life. Jentry has known me since I was 3. I trust her judgement almost more than mine. She knew instantly that something was wrong. She suggested something that I would never have thought of. 

She said I should get help.

Much unlike my recent self I went straight to the University health center after my class. I showed up at 1:00 full of predetermined misconceptions and, of course, anxiety. This lovely lady cam and got me and started asking me just a few questions. I told her about me and why I was there. I basically recited my panic attack post from yesterday. She me about my past with social anxiety. 

And that is when it hit me. 

I have had massive social anxiety almost my entire life. 

It started back when I was a little kid. I would gag almost every time I walked around, especially when I was around food. That petrified me. I was scared to go out to eat and I hated to eat in public because I thought I would throw up in public. I was terrified of not being close to a bathroom. 

That problem doubled, if not tripled when I started with the anorexia. That destroyed my digestive system and made me constantly dizzy. I would bend over gagging on the walk from be bed to the bathroom when I woke up in the morning. The anxiety I had as a kid was expanded because I couldn't get control over vomiting or gagging. 

The anorexia caused the massive stomach problems I have dealt with for the last 5 years. For the longest time I couldn't eat out at restaurants. If I got in a car, or even walked around, very soon after I ate I would be cripplingly nauseous. 

       Side note: nausea is 10000000% worse than just throwing up. If you throw up you are done. Being nauseous leaves you panicky for hours at a time. 

I also have acid re-flux disease. If I don't have my medicine I am essentially out of commission. I finally got tired of dealing with the stomach issues and my family took me to the doctor. They yanked my gal bladder out and gave me motion sickness meds that I can not survive with out. 

I also learned that all my fears are social fears. Crowds, claustrophobia, swarms, heights. All created or experienced in social situations. 

Pretty much my whole life has been filled with anxiety. A lot of it dealing with finding bathrooms and staying away from people. This anxiety and stress has been building and building and yesterday it finally popped. 

Taking to the counselor today was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I am finally doing something to create a life that isn't riddle with escape routes, bathrooms, and excuses. I felt so liberated talking. Although, I am still exhausted. I haven't talked that much in months. I need a nap. But it was an amazing experience. 

I got to talk about how I felt instead of trying to explain why I felt it.

If anyone of you have social problems or anxiety go talk to a counselor or therapist. They have studied the reasons you feel the way you do and know what to do to try and help. The best part is you just get to say what you feel. You don't have to explain yourself. 

I should be getting the results of our consultation and the path of treatment in a few days. I am very hopeful. More hopeful than I have been in a long time. 

I leave you with a picture and all my love, 

Katie 

Diary of an Introvert - Overwhelming Anxiety

July 1st, 2014
9:14 pm
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Age: 20

Overwhelming Anxiety

Lately I have been avoiding commitments. If someone invites me to do something I and for some reason I say yes I instantly regret it. I instantly start to think of something I can say or some excuse I can come up with to get me out of whatever the commitment is. I rejoice when someone cancels plans. I seriously have a miniature party.

Tonight, is the worse it has ever been.

My roommates from last year invited me to a picnic. A BLOODY PICNIC. It sounded brilliant while I was talking to them but once the plans were set the anxiety set it. I started to be short on breath and light headed. I was unable to focus on what I was trying to do and Sid was freaking out because that doesn't happened often. I started combing through my catalog of excuses as the pressure of the looming event got heavier and heavier. It is like this giant black tarp hanging over me slowly getting closer and closer.

I got up from my computer and laid on my bed. I pulled my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes wishing this claustrophobia would leave. I started to shake and my eyes began watering. I twisted my hands together to try and stop the fear. The worst part is I don't understand why I am so scared.

I am so scared of contact with other people. I get jumpy when people touch me. I panic inside when a teacher calls on me for an answer. I just don't want to talk to anyone. I think at school today I spoke about 3 sentences but I felt utterly drained. That little bit of contact with people exhausted me. Now granted, I am away from my family and the closest friends I have. The only one I have at school is Sid, but he doesn't really get social anxiety. He is such a people person. I don't know what I am doing and I don't know why this is happening.

Is it because I don't really want to see people? That doesn't make sense. I lived with my roommates for a year. I should be comfortable around them, right? The tears are flowing now and I don't know what to do to stop it. Why do I feel so much pressure and debilitating fear of going on a damned picnic with two people. JUST TWO PEOPLE. I don't understand.

It has been months since I actually hung out with people by choice. Every time someone invites me somewhere and I say no. The normal part of the school year was still happening when I spent time with my friends. Even then though, on the car ride I was hyperventilating and wishing that Sid would just turn the car around. The thing is, this has nothing to do with the people themselves. I love my roommates and all the friends I have made at University. But when they ask me to spend time with the I would literally rather die.

Why is this happening?

I leave you with a picture and my all distant panicky love,
Katie