Over-analyzing things - again

The Santa experience was traumatic. 5 years ago, social anxiety ruled my life and, as a result, that incident weighed heavily on my mind for weeks. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a fool I had made of myself. I kept repeating the entire evening in my mind, analyzing every last detail and beating myself up for things I should, and should not, have done.

Since then, I’ve learned to avoid that kind of self-destructive thinking at all costs. However, at the time, I was unable to control the need to analyze things to death. Of course, this only served to strengthen my feelings of inadequacy, shame, and anger. I was angry at myself for not having the resources to cope. I was angry at my family for putting me through such an ordeal. I was angry at the smug individuals who took the opportunity to bolster their own egos and have a laugh at my expense.

Of course, I was blowing things out of proportion. The fact of the matter was that anyone would have been treated the same in that situation. I wasn’t singled out. There was no conspiracy. I just didn’t perform well and, to most, it would have looked odd. In fact, I might have given someone a sly smirk myself.

Being thin-skinned and having no self-esteem, I over-analyzed the situation and then drew my conclusions based on my warped belief system. Of course, my belief system kept telling me I was inadequate, weird, stupid, unattractive, different, undeserving, and the list goes on.

I should also mention that the combined intimidation factor of all the adults in the room was absolutely overwhelming. Like connecting batteries together, a new, more powerful force was created by multiplying the number of adults by each person’s individual rating. This resulted in one massive single presence that was a hundred times as fearsome as any one individual. That’s also the reason I could never stand up and give a speech to an audience.

The only time I truly felt relaxed was when I was handing out the toys and reading to the kids. Well, initially I was nervous because the adults were still hanging around, but they quickly dispersed as most seemed to get bored.

For the last half hour or so, I felt ok. Interacting with the kids was a breeze because their intimidation rating was low. Again, this is not a bad thing, it just means that I am able to relax and be myself around those with a lower rating.

Once I had finished the story and stood up to make my exit, my anxiety returned with a vengeance. The adults were now interacting again. I was expected to bellow out the, “Ho-ho-ho – Merry Christmas” line a few more times and shake some hands as I made my way to the hallway and certain freedom.

I was amazed at how much of an impact the audience had on my level of anxiety – or more accurately, the type of audience.

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