Do you want to know what the real nightmare is for people with social anxiety? You got it! Parties. They sound so fun, don’t they? Every movie I’ve ever seen portrays them as “the time of your life”. Everyone in one place, dancing to the music, laughing and talking and everyone’s falling in love and getting tipsy together. It looks so great. But that’s not what parties are really like, are they? I know I mentioned this in my last post, but after thinking about it I found more that I wanted to talk about.
First of all, let’s talk about the pre-planning that happens before you even get to the party. I don’t know about everyone else, but I stress out about what I’m going to wear DAYS in advance. Is it a themed party that I need to plan for? Is it going to be warm out or cold? Should I bring a sweater just in case or is that only what lame people do? It always ends up not even mattering because no one actually cares what I wear, but in my mind everyone cares and I must pick the right outfit for the occasion. It becomes a little obnoxious, tearing through my closet, clothes hitting the floor in a scattered mess until I find what I’m looking for (that is if I can even make up my mind in the first place). It’s like my anxiety on steroids or something.
Once I’ve got my outfit all perfected, and my hair is behaving the best it can, I head out to the party. I am by no means a party-person, probably because they give me anxiety, so I am no expert on this. However, I think one of the biggest let downs about modern parties is that they are all about taking the perfect selfies with your friends. I’ve literally been to house parties where everyone is on their phone and hardly anyone is socializing with each other or meeting new people. Everyone just stays in their friend group and since I have no friends, I get left all alone. The music is on but no one is dancing and it’s just a lot of mindless scrolling through social media and everyone claiming a corner for their group. I on the other hand rarely ever even use my phone so I end up just standing around waiting for someone to start up a conversation or a game or something. Even though both of those prospects are anxiety provoking, they’re much better than standing around just waiting for an appropriate time to cut out and leave! (Yes, I am the master of the French Exit at this point)
I think I’ve reached the point in my life where the prospect of going out to a party is nowhere near as thrilling as staying home in my comfort zone and popping in my favorite movie. What’s wrong with staying in if it makes you happy? Some of the people that do invite me to parties try to make me feel guilty the next day by saying how great it was. Your party may have been amazing, but my night in was just as wonderful, trust me on this. OK, rant over now. Over and out my friends!