Social Anxiety

Back around my birthday I posted about some goal-setting I had done, but I did not write much about the actual celebration. I had been feeling like I was ready for karaoke again, so going out the Saturday before my birthday (a Tuesday) made sense. I did not make it specifically for my birthday, but focused on getting schoolmates together, because those are good nights, and I did not want to focus on the birthday too much. I was going to Mexico for that.

Anyway, it was a pretty good night. Those who came had a good time, I think. Only two of us sang, both singing twice, but there were plenty of people from other groups singing, so there was always plenty going on, and if people can have a good time at karaoke without getting up there, cool. Also, I finally did attempt “I’m not okay”, and it went pretty well, though I did not anticipate how dizzy the head-banging part would make me, and I nearly fell getting back to my chair. Since I don’t drink, that may be the closest I have come to seeing how karaoke feels for a lot of people.

There were more people who wanted to come, but there was snow coming in, and especially for the people who lived farther away it was a concern. Now, this post is not in any way going after people who did not come due to weather or other commitments or a hatred for amateur rock stars—this is just a peek into my twisted little mind.

I love getting people together. I often have ideas for things that I think would make good get-togethers. Creating these get-togethers just happens to put me at my most neurotic.
Traditionally this is what happens with a Facebook invitation. Response options are Attend, Maybe, No, and to not respond at all. People who are not sure that they can attend but want to will put Maybe, or possibly not respond, and they do not come. People who fully want to attend will say they are, but you will not get all of these, because things come up. I do this too, and actually, it has never been a reflection on the event.

Bearing this in mind, I probably should not feel so much dread when positive RSVPs are slow to come, but it does not work that way. I always worry that the event will be a total disaster. No one will come except maybe one person, and then they will have a bad time, and I will have given them a sucky time because I had delusions of grandeur that people would actually want to spend time with me.

The thing is, once you are the organizer, you have an obligation. You can’t show up, realize you are a dismal failure, and then back away slowly, because if that one person who was foolish enough to come shows up twenty minutes late, and you are not there, your social transgressions have just been compounded.

Because of this, I have hung out by myself in a park for about an hour, but then one family did show up, and then another, and fortunately they had children of similar ages and we all got along, but it was a little stressful. And actually, there were only three people, including me, at the previous karaoke night that I organized. Again, it was not awful, but it doesn’t leave you feeling like a homecoming queen either.

(Speaking of birthday parties, I had them in 4th grade and in 9th grade, and in both cases most of the girls came, but only one boy each, leaving them in somewhat awkward positions. This is why only girls were invited to my 16th birthday party.)

This will generally lead to doubts about whether people even really want me at their events or they are just inviting me because they are being nice, and hoping that I either won’t make it or there will be enough other people there that it won’t matter. This has nothing to do with how anyone has treated me. It’s just me. (I realize this is pathetic—knowing when I am pathetic is one of my better qualities.)

This is why I really prefer to let other people organize social events, and will defer to others as often as possible (though this often means that things ended up occurring in locations and at times that are not conveniently accessible via public transportation, especially for a female traveling alone).

I also know, though, that at some point it will be my turn again, and I will do it again. I will plan, and try to accommodate, and I will completely stress out again, but I’ll do it. I don’t think I have a single regret that didn’t have something to do with fear. I don’t feel like accumulating any more.