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“I cut him out at the root, he was my favorite tree, rotting, threatening the foundations of my home.”
— Warsan Shire.
“I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea—how free.”
— Sylvia Plath, “Tulips”
(via goodreadss)
Blue is boring, a stutter of a cliché that goes unnoticed but somehow sounds wrong when it comes out as justification.
But this winter you buy a blue coat and it brings out your eyes, does something to all the reflection in the world and they say,
‘You look all ocean today, you’re blue blue blue.’
And it’s like maybe this is the place between the sky and the sea.
You want to say, will this always have something to do with me?
You want to say, do that again, open me up, see where all the blue sits real.
You pretend it all means nothing, don’t say anything,
squint up at them and wonder if you’re under the sky or above it, wonder if you’re in it or if it’s in you, wonder if it’s something drowned or something soft,
and then
still think that their’s are warmer.
“It’s not my responsibility to be beautiful, I’m not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.”
— Warsan Shire
(via goodreadss)
for those of you who think having social anxiety means you’re shy, let me tell you a story.
you are supposed to meet your friends to see a movie at this little bagel shop, but you are ten minutes late and miss them. You don’t want to go into the theater and then go back out because what if someone judges you, but you look through the windows of the movie theater and see that the movie started a minute ago. Instead of going in like a normal person, getting a ticket, and then being a tiny bit late for this movie you really want to see, you walk to the library because you can’t just catch the next bus to go home, what if it is the same bus driver and they recognize you and judge? The library has people, so you curl up in a tiny ball in the corner and go on your phone. you don’t want to take a book because then someone might see you and notice you and who knows what they’re thinking. You thought you looked nice this morning but now you’re self conscious about your hair, your clothes, your stomach, even your phone case.
after forty minutes in the library (most of which is spent trying to muster up the courage to walk out) you go back to the bagel shop to get yourself a bit of food because you didn’t have breakfast. This is a trial in its self, because when in the process of looking for your friends you peered through the window, and one of the patrons saw you. it isn’t socially acceptable to just stand outside for a while, however, so you force yourself to enter. The same patron who spotted you before is still here, but you can’t turn around now. you walk up to the counter to decide what you want, but no one else is ordering and the woman behind the counter asks for the order immediately. You panic, and the words come out jumbled and quiet. She asks you to repeat it, and you do. it is more clear this time, but still very quiet. She asks you a second time and this time she understands. You’re already shaking from the stress, but then at the check out counter she asks if you have a discount card. You do not, and you say so as clearly as you can as your heart thumps in your ears. She asks if you would like one and you want to melt, but you say no thank you and she doesn’t push. now it is another five minutes of waiting for your bagel to be done.
this is the worst part, because you don’t know what to do. it isn’t long enough to justify taking out your phone, but you look weird just standing there. after five minutes of anxiety and panic you get your bagel and rush out of the store, only to stop stone cold just outside. there are so many people on the sidewalk, and you don’t want to just eat your bagel and walk: they’ll think you’re a greedy pig. instead you wrap it back up and walk quickly to the bus stop, checking your phone for the arrival time every few minutes. Your feet hurt but you don’t want to sit and look lazy, so you stand for ten terrifying minutes. when you get on you flash your student pass, but the bus driver doesn’t notice and yells at you to come back.
at this point you’re near tears and just want to go home. You show them your pass again and move to the back, huddling in the corner of a seat. the thirty minute bus ride is nerve wracking and as soon as you reach your stop you rush off. there are fewer people here, and you walk quickly, hair flapping in the strong wind. as soon as you get home you hide in your room and eat your bagel, terrified your parents will ask why you’re home an hour early. they think you anxiety is stupid, and yell at you if you’re scared to speak to a stranger.
now this may seem difficult, but it’s just another day. you have school tomorrow and then you’ll have to face your teachers (who are nice but you’re still scared of them) and your friends. You have constant anxiety about your friends because you’re still waiting for them to drop you. every day is full of stress and constant calculations about what to do that will attract the least attention.
so no, social anxiety is not being shy.
hemoglobin