Most people, on a fairly regular basis, feel like they are observers of The Theatre of the Absurd. I think this might be something most people feel when they enter a Walmart or review comments on articles on Yahoo!

Most rational people probably prefer to not be participants of The Theatre of the Absurd and don't realize how often they do participate (which is obvious to those of us observing).

There is nothing more disconcerting when one is quietly going through daily life than discovering that one has become a participant in The Theatre of the Absurd. I feel like this has happened to me upon discovering that I have social anxiety. While this is my own personal theatre and it doesn't reach the massive heights of absurdity that others reach, it feels ridiculous to me.



As I mentioned last time, I had convinced myself I had a different kind of claustrophobia and that's what I believed for a long time. I also used to be a bit of a social butterfly. To think that I had any anxiety going on seems unbelievable to me. Sure, I had anxiety about picking up the phone and talking to anyone about anything but I just thought it was a dislike of talking on the phone, not an anxiety. When I was in high school and asked out a boy I liked, I would tend to blank out, conversation-wise. But I didn't recognize that as anxiety.

At the same time, it makes so much sense. I didn't like calling people because I didn't want to sound like an idiot. I couldn't think of things to say to a boy I liked because, well, I liked him. I didn't want to bore him or come across as dumb or trivial.


Now here I am, finally, discovering I have social anxiety. And I find it absurd.


I talk to people. I can make friends, with effort. I can speak in public when prepared. I joke, I laugh, I play with others. Why, then, am I socially anxious? What happened to me in my lifetime that has made me like this?

I haven't come completely to terms with it because, while I know it's entirely accurate, it annoys me that I'm anxious and I am having a hard time accepting that it is the truth, even when I know it is.



I have an appointment coming up with my therapist in a couple weeks. It's been more than a month since I've seen him and I am eager to start addressing these issues with him. It's so easy to talk about it by myself but I need input from someone who knows what they're talking about.

Also, I've slowly been making notes from the book I've been reading, Overcoming Social Anxiety and Shyness*, that I need to start assembling into something useful. Those notes will most likely be compiled into another post as well.

In the meantime, I guess I'll have to accept that my life is absurd. It could be far worse than absurd. :-)



*I have linked to the Amazon website for the book but note that if you are a Kindle user, apparently the Kindle version is missing essential parts of the book. I have purchased my e-book from Barnes & Noble, which is not missing any parts. My link to Amazon is not for any reason in particular, other than a habit, as I tend to use Amazon the most.

Photo by The Girl Who Ate Everything

• 24 good white dinner rolls
• 24 pieces good honey ham
• 24 small slices Swiss cheese
• 1/3 cup mayonnaise
• 1/3 cup miracle whip

Poppy seed sauce

• 1 T poppyseeds
• 1 1/2 T yellow mustard
• 1 stick butter, melted
• 1 T minced onion
• 1/2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce

In a small bowl, mix together mayonnaise and miracle whip. Spread onto both sides of the center of each roll. Place a slice of ham and a slice of Swiss inside of each roll. Close rolls and place them into a large baking dish or heavy cookie sheet. Place very close together.

In a medium bowl, whisk together all of the poppy seed sauce ingredients. Pour evenly over all of the sandwiches. Let sit 10 minutes or until butter sets slightly. Cover with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 12-15 minutes or until cheese is melted. Uncover and cook for 2 additional minutes. Serve warm.