Recalculating, Rewiring, Showing Up

Be there in a minute….

Day 241

Social events give me such bad anxiety that I don’t usually make it to said functions.  Feeling like I’m on the outside of every room I walk into has never made me very self-assured, but when there was alcohol, there was no problem.  Get buzzed and converse effortlessly, get wasted and don’t care about anything!  Hooray!  Much to my anxiety-ridden dismay, this social lubricant is no longer at my disposal.

Due to unrealistic projections on how every activity will pan out, I’ve developed a nasty habit of making plans and then immediately regretting them.  My mind begins spinning a web of irrational excuses…. Who will I talk to?  What will we talk about?  What if they stare at this giant blemish on my face? How will I get there?  What if there’s no parking? What if it’s so overly crowded that I have a panic attack?  I’m too fat today anyway. I’m not going.  Whew.

The second I decide I’m not going to go I feel wave of relief, but I’ve already let someone else down, including myself.  I don’t know what’s worse about these destructive decisions; that I end up disrespecting the person or persons who invited me, or that there is a 99% probability that if do show up I’ll have a great time.

Confidence and awareness have sprouted in sobriety, and tools have been acquired to counteract old-behavior; sometimes I even implement those tools.  I’ll remind myself to simply show up.  Jesus, it’s not that hard.  I’ll remind myself that no one cares if I have a zit on my forehead.  I’ll tell myself to stop being such a selfish flakey friend, and that the world does not cater to my own self-centered fears.

Unfortunately, it’s a long road of awkwardness before I fully reach a point where ease comes freely and events are easy.  At most completely sober settings I still feel like I’m standing around waiting for everyone to get drunk.  It’s like going to a party that never starts…talk about anxiety.

Yesterday “The Committee” started generating the same old bullshit for an occasion I had committed to.  A bailout plan was in the works, when sober thoughts kung-fu’d them in the face.   It was extremely uncomfortable to go against how I have conditioned my brain, but because of step work and progress not perfection, I was able to tell my insecurities to shut the fuck up, show up, and stop ruining my chance at life.

Of course, it was a great time.  All it took was some excruciatingly difficult recalculating! Showing up….what a concept.