One Shots

Social Anxiety

The first day of school - exciting for most, nerve-wracking for the rest.

Despite me starting my senior year at a school I've been attending since freshman year, I was still anxious. I shouldn't be, and my parents remind me of that continuously. But I just can't shake the nerves.

I procrastinated getting out of bed this morning, not wanting to face reality, but I gave myself enough time to get ready. As much as I don't want to go, I really wouldn't want to be late.

So I got in my car and drove to school - no mommy and daddy to hold my hand on the way there.

Hoping I wasn't the first of my friends to show up, I left my car and walked to our meet-up spot by the front entrance. I casually looked around for anyone I knew, anxiety increasing when I found no one.

I stopped once I got to the area we always meet at and immediately went on my phone. Of course, I had no notifications to keep me preoccupied. I began going through random apps - photos, notes, Instagram - before I decided to text the group to ask where everyone was.

Looking around to see if any of my friends were nearby, my thoughts began to get the best of me.

Am I waiting in the wrong spot?

Are they here, and I just don't see them?

Will I be forced to walk into the building alone?

Is today the actual first day?

The last question, I realize, was stupid as there were many other students filling up the space around the school. Although, my mind couldn't help but think of it last night and this morning when my alarm woke me up at the crack of dawn.

Thankfully, most of my friend group showed up before we had to go inside. I felt so awkward and out of place standing around on my own. I knew no one was paying any attention to me, yet I still felt self-conscious.

Before we would be considered late (not that we had a first class to be late for today), my friends and I made our way inside along with the rest of the crowd. We walked to the gym to get our schedules. I am more than aware that we were told to go there to pick up our schedules and that there would be signs telling us where to go. But the thought of stepping into that large room and looking around, feeling lost, despite going through this procedure multiple times by now, was enough to make my stomach hurt. Although, being with my friends made it a little bit easier.

My friends and I made small conversations all the way there. I felt slightly better than when I first showed up. But I was still way too aware of everything I did - the way I was walking, how I reacted, the non-stop fidgeting of my hands. But I didn't even have to be nervous for that last one. I never knew what to do with my hands, so I was constantly playing with my rings or holding onto my necklace or stuffing them into my pockets where they wouldn't have to be seen.

Whether my friends picked up on my nervous tendencies or not, they never mentioned it, which I was more than grateful for. I know I do the things I do, but that doesn't mean they need to be pointed out. Talking about it just makes me feel more shy and self-conscious. My nerves make me want to disappear or go invisible sometimes.

In the gym, there were various tables, separated by grades and last names. Because of all our last names, I had to go to the table alone, while the others all seemed to have someone with them.

I begrudgingly made my way to the designated table and waited in line, feeling awkward immediately. I took my phone out to check the time and pretended I had a message. I stuffed it back into my pocket when I realized that I didn't actually see the time. Knowing no one was taking notice of me, I pulled my phone out embarrassedly once more to actually take note of the numbers. As soon as my hands were empty, I started to fidget again.

This line feels like it's going so slow. All we have to do is say our name and get a piece of paper.

Then, I remembered I have to speak. It was only my name, and it was to a teacher I've seen around. But I never actually had her as a teacher and I don't have the simplest last name and my mom has told me countless times that I tend to mumble and talk too quietly. I don't do it on purpose, and I think I'll sound sure of myself. But then, a stuttering mess comes out, my face gets all red, and I just want to hide in a ditch. My mind will repeat the words I screwed up over and over until my thoughts are taken over by something else.

Suddenly, the line was moving too fast, and I was at the front. I looked at the teacher sitting there and told her my name. I immediately broke eye contact, just wanting to get back to my friends and compare schedules. I really hoped I had someone, anyone in each of my classes. But I shouldn't be too hopeful. I don't want to be disappointed if I have to sit alone. As long as I have someone during lunch, I should be able to survive.

I got my schedule, unable to ignore the shakiness of my hand. I muttered a thank you and walked away without even a glance at the teacher. I forced myself to look up from my shoes and search for my friends. Trying not to look too out of place, I took my time like I knew where I was going. Really, I was merely trying to buy time and hope I found the others.

I sped up as soon as I spotted them, excited to see who I would be with throughout the day.

The administration made an announcement telling us to step out of the gym once we got our schedules and go to class. Of course, we ignored the last part and continued checking our shared classes as we walked through the hallway.

As expected, I had some of my classes with various friends throughout the day. And a lot of us shared the same lunch period. For that, I was the most thankful.

As for the class I was expected to attend now, though, I had no one to walk with. We said our respective goodbyes, knowing we'd see each other in a little while anyway. I went my own way since their classes were elsewhere.

I was quick to take a picture of my schedule, so I wouldn't have to walk around with it, looking like a freshman. I kept glancing at the photo, making sure I read it correctly. I think I would die of embarrassment if I walked into the wrong room.

I must have looked at the image at least five times to make sure I was going to the right place. And at one point, I totally went the wrong way. This is my fourth year in this school, and I still didn't know where I was going. Surely, no one would notice though. I mean, I don't recognize most of the people I passed. So if I passed then a second time, I would be none the wiser. With that thought in mind, I mindlessly searched for the room I needed to be in.

Eventually, I found it. For someone who claims to know this building semi-well, I still managed to get lost. Talk about embarrassing. But I'm just my own worst enemy. And I know that. But it does little to comfort me.

Of course, nothing went wrong when getting my schedule. And although I got slightly lost, everything turned out fine. It always does. But knowing that does nothing to calm me or my anxiety. And that's just what I have to live with.