Reason I hate myself sometimes #1

It’s stupid and pointless and something I wish I didn’t have to deal with daily.
It’s something I’m not proud of, I’m try and keep locked away because I know, in the long run, this is gonna hurt me more than it’s gonna protect me.

It’s social anxiety.

I hate that I constantly think about what people’s opinions of me are, whether I’m making them happy by being myself.

I hate that I spend most of my life worrying if I’ve offended or upset someone by talking to them,not talking to them, making eye contact.

What I hate most of all, is how it makes me seem rude, cold and uncaring.

There was once a time in a shop where I live. It was quite a small shop, with very little room to get past, so everyone had to walk single file. I think I had tripped up or knocked something over when I came in, so I was really paranoid about making eye contact with anyone, and was consequentially looking at the ground.
I didn’t see a man in a wheelchair waiting to get past until I looked up and he was glaring at me. I immediately looked at the floor and just kept walking, because I can’t- if someone glares at me I revert to a six year old and get scared and upset and frustrated at myself, because boo, a sixteen year old girl should not be too afraid to say sorry to a man in a wheelchair who you accidentally stopped from getting past.
Anyway, I just kept walking, to get as far away from this situation as possible, and away from everyone’s stares and judgmental looks and my thought process was oh my god I am so sorry please don’t shout because I’ll start crying because I’m pathetic like that and I should not have left the house today please stop looking at me please please please-

My sister who was behind me at the time, stopped to let the man go past and he said thank you really loudly, making sure I could hear.

Never have I felt worse about myself.
Actually, that’s not strictly true… Remind me to sometime tell you about year 8 sports day.

I hate that this happens. I try hard to not come across as rude. I try to be polite and kind and nice to everyone, because everyone deserves to be treated with kindness – if you don’t know their backstory. Obviously, if you know someone is a dickhead, that’s different.
But whenever something like this happens, I seize up, like all manners and personality have gone out of the window; in that moment I was just a rude, ignorant teenager to him, wasn’t I?

Wel, Mr Wheelchair man from The Works, I am so very sorry. I promise you, it wasn’t rudeness, or spiteful ness that made me keep walking, it was my inability to speak under confrontational circumstances.

I feel a lot better for having wrote this.
I’m not sharing this one on Facebook, but I’m also not making it private.

Shazza.