An Ode to Burnout: Social Anxiety Sucks
A story about the wallflower who took on too much.
Before the plague, I used to sit inside playing video games all day. It wasn’t what you would call a glamorous life, and I developed a lot of internalized resentment because of it.
Now things are returning to normal, but I’m not the same person I used to be. In fact, I’m beginning to feel like I’ve picked up one too many co-curriculars in this post-pandemic world.
Dear lord, I’m exhausted.
Isolation Has Never Been So Fashionable
Let’s rewind back to March 2020. It was my second semester at Penn State University, but severe social anxiety kept me from enjoying much of anything. Needless to say, I avoided people and events long before COVID-19 made it fashionable.
That’s why whenever Gov. Tom Wolf ordered a statewide lockdown, a wave of relief washed over my body. It was as if suddenly I could let my guard down. For some indiscernible amount of time I no longer had to worry about what strangers thought of me.
Gone was the pressure to fit in. Disappeared had the negative thoughts about myself. Vanished had the panic attacks and hot flashes associated with the mundane task of simply talking to people.
I was free.
…Or at least I was. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before I realized that loneliness was even worse than forcing myself to be in public.
What began as a lovely vacation from society in which I could play as many hours of Animal Crossing: New Horizons as I liked, quickly became an existential nightmare as I reconsidered what I wanted out of life.
Intrusive thoughts encroached my spotless mind, and I met them with a mingled feeling of dread and curiosity.
How much better could college and the rest of my life be if I tried a little harder to talk to people? Wouldn’t it be fun — I wondered — to be part of the conversation, rather than a mere observer? Am I doomed to this life of social awkwardness, or can I take action into my own hands?
How much longer could I stand being alone?
Yes, looking back it was all very melodramatic.
A Golden Opportunity
But now that I think about it, perhaps a little time mired in my personal swamp of sorrows was exactly what I needed. Although I spent the next fifteen months locked inside of my room, I got something out of it.
“When the next opportunity arises,” I told myself with determination woven into every syllable, “I’m going to make a change.”
Little did I know that opportunities were right around the corner.
Rocking a loner aesthetic left me with plenty of time to dedicate to my course work. This caught the attention of my professor — who ironically thought I was quite good at communications — and suggested that I help organize Penn State’s New Student Orientation Day for the upcoming fall semester.
After teetering back-and-forth on the decision and consulting my partner Erik (probably ad nauseum on his behalf) about whether I’m ready for such a tall order… I sent a letter of interest to my Director of Student Affairs.
As luck would have it, I was accepted into the program and my following summer leading up to the event was comprised of meetings with new and intimidating faces!
These people — as far as I could tell — knew each other already, and were much better at playing it cool under the pressure of social gatherings. Meanwhile, my self-esteem fluctuated with every passing moment. While they laughed and bounced ideas off each other, I found comfort in being a wallflower.
But that wouldn’t last forever.
“Today I want everyone to stand in a circle,” said our Director of Student Affairs during our typical afternoon meeting. He was holding what looked like a volleyball with words written all over it. “I’m going to throw this ball. When you catch it, you’ve got to read and answer the question found underneath your left thumb.”
Icebreaker exercises, my weakness.
After learning that some people preferred their eggs scrambled instead of sunny side up, and others enjoyed the company of cats over dogs — it was my turn.
And honestly? It was a lot fun letting the group know that my favorite genre of music was pop.
“Really anything but country,” I added.
New Student Orientation Day went by without a hitch, and on the whole I congratulated myself. I had faced my fears, met new people, and started to break out of my shell.
By this point in the story, you might be wondering how any of this relates to the topic of burnout.
Here’s where it all ties in.
Perpetually Tired, Outwardly Peppy
Even though I was entering my third year at Penn State, this was my first time properly interacting around campus. It felt something like leaving a dark room after an extended period of time. A feeling of warmth enveloped my body, and I basked in the company of other people for the first time in years.
Yes, yes. I’ve already agreed it’s quite melodramatic.
But my role in organizing New Student Orientation Day had ended. I had to do something or else risk returning to a self-imposed life of solitude.
So I did what any socially anxious person would do, and signed up for every club and organization that piqued my interest. It was a moment of pure insanity, but college was better with people, especially those I met over the summer.
Deciding to ignore the flashes of insecurity and apprehension, I dived head first into the waters of socialization.
I joined the Student Government Association, the LGBTQIA+ alliance, THON, and even doubled down on my commitment towards managing the campus newspaper. It might not sound like much, but when you’re struggling with social anxiety, getting through a single week can become a harrowing task.
Intrusive thoughts still cross my mind. Is my company something others would rather not have inflicted upon them? Do I buckle under the pressure and pull away?
“No,” I tell myself.
It’s a daily battle, and although I’m burnt out…
I’m not giving up yet.
Epilogue
Are you a similarly introverted person? This piece might have resonated with you. We both know it’s difficult to work on, but between me and you? I’m a fan of exposure therapy… but also… Just therapy.
Recently, I scheduled my first appointment with a mental health counselor. The day is quickly approaching, and instead of shying away, I’m embracing the chance to seek professional help.
January 2022, here I come.
What does your future hold?
