“Can you dabao McDonald’s home for your dad?”

I felt my palms get sweaty and my heart beat faster as I read the text from my mum on the way home from school one day. Should I think of an excuse to not do so? Maybe tell her I don’t have enough money to buy dinner for my dad?

Surely ordering a McDonald’s meal over the cashier wasn’t that difficult. And yet, the thought of having to talk to a stranger left me in a cold sweat. What if I messed up the order? What would the cashier think of me? I hated how these thoughts would consume me at every step of the way. Why couldn’t I be like the other kids? All I wanted was to be normal.

LEARNING ABOUT SOCIAL ANXIETY

Whenever my friends ask me, “Why you don’t wanna join us? Don’t be so anti-social leh,” I wish I could’ve told them that it’s not that I didn’t want to hang out with them, I was just afraid that they wouldn’t like me.

Or when my secondary school teacher gave me feedback that went something like, “You’re too shy in class and should open up and take part in class discussions more,” I wish I could’ve told her that it’s not that I didn’t want to participate more in class, I was just afraid of the humiliation from answering questions wrongly. Would I become a laughing stock? And if I get it right, would they think that I’m just showing off?

In school, I pretty much kept to myself most of the time and I didn’t have a lot of friends.. To an outsider, I was shy and introverted. I guess I came across as antisocial at times.

Because everyone kept calling me shy, I believed that that’s all that it was. But no matter how much I tried to break out from my “shyness”, I couldn’t.

One day, my friend noticed that I would get panic attacks before class presentations. My heart would race faster and cause a lump in my throat that made it difficult to breathe. She encouraged me to talk to the school counselor.

My school counselor was the first person to tell me that I may have social anxiety disorder. She referred me to a psychiatrist, who diagnosed me with it.

I was finally able to rationalise everything I had been feeling for the better part of my life. However, I also came to realise that it is much easier to let people think that I was just ‘shy’, because when you start telling someone that you have a mental condition, chances are you’d have to start explaining why you feel certain things—how do I explain feelings that I don’t even want to have myself?

Admitting that I had social anxiety to other people was the most difficult part of coming to terms with my mental health. The first time I told someone about my social anxiety, they said: “Huh isn’t that just social awkwardness? I also have!”

I couldn’t blame them for reacting that way but hearing that from friends was still pretty hurtful. It made me feel that what I felt or thought didn’t matter. Them brushing me off made me even more resistant to tell anyone else about it.

Even today, my parents are unaware of my social anxiety. Growing up, I’ve felt the disdain my parents’ have towards mental issues through the passing remarks they make about mental health patients being “attention-seeking” and “weak”.

Because of this, I hid the fact that I had social anxiety to myself. And for the most part of my teenage years, social anxiety controlled my life because I didn’t dare to speak to anyone about it.

WHAT DOES SOCIAL ANXIETY FEEL LIKE?

Social anxiety is not being able to answer questions in class because I was scared of what my classmates would think of me.

Social anxiety is having my heart race 10 times faster when I hear the telephone ring, and then having to rehearse exactly what to say before answering it.

Social anxiety is the constant fear of having my friends talk about me behind my back, because in my mind, I'd keep thinking that they don’t actually like me.

Social anxiety is listening more than talking in group discussions because I’ve convinced myself that my opinions don’t matter, and that I will just be looked down upon.

It decided what I did and didn’t do, and this constant self-doubt and fear got so bad that it created limitations that hindered my everyday life. No matter how illogical the thoughts I had were, I would constantly find reasons to avoid situations that could trigger my social anxiety in the slightest way.

Back when I was on an internship, I called in sick on the day that I was supposed to head for a meeting at another office. The thought of facing the unfamiliar and embarrassing myself in front of my boss and associates scared me. It wasn’t just the nerves either. I genuinely feared the consequences of failure. In my mind, this just kept replaying: “If I mess this up, my boss would hate me and my entire six months of internship would become a nightmare.”

Slowly, I realised that I was letting my social anxiety influence my day-to-day decisions. I had let it consume my life in a lot of subtle ways and there was a point I thought I would never be able to overcome my social anxiety.

For years I ignored having to deal with it. I stupidly thought that ignoring it would somehow make the problem go away. But I realised that it was impossible to avoid situations that could trigger my social anxiety forever. After all, I’d have to meet people everyday, be it at work, in school or in public, I would always be surrounded by people. And with that, I would always be scared of what the people around me were thinking of me.

LEARNING TO RIDE WITH IT

When I joined the workforce at 23, I found that the people around me were a lot more open-minded and accepting, contrary to the people I’ve met in school or at home. That made me comfortable in opening up about my social anxiety.

For the most part, having social anxiety means putting up an act everyday, because it’s difficult for someone else to recognise this disorder, or differentiate it from merely being shy. But finally being able to openly talk about it and realising that there are other people out there who can relate to my struggles made me feel less alone.

I would be lying if I said that I don’t get sweaty palms anymore when I get an unexpected phone call or if I have to share my thoughts to a group of people. And I still often struggle with the habitual thoughts that my friends or colleagues are speaking ill of me whenever I hear them whispering near me.

Social anxiety is probably something that I will never ‘get rid of’ completely, it’s every McDonald’s order, every first conversation, every phone call to a stranger, that has helped me get better over the years.

I’ve come to accept that my social anxiety will always be a part of me and that I should grow with it, instead of against it.

Also read: 8 Singapore Shared Snapshots Of What Depression Was Like For Them

(Header Image Credit: Budagchin Erka)

It all started when I was at a university camp in year 2. I could hear voices in my head—voices that didn’t exist. Voices of family and friends criticising me behind my back even though I didn’t physically see or hear them. Then, paranoia would set in. At some points, I could even hear the lecturer speaking to me directly even though he was talking to the whole student body.

I Couldn’t Even Trust Myself Anymore

I had all these thoughts about my friends and family shaming me and being out to get me. But the logical side of me knew that they wouldn’t because we were very close. It’s as if there was a war going on in my head. Negative thoughts kept creeping in while I kept fighting to make sense of reality. It was distressing and I started to feel abnormal. It frightened me so much that I couldn’t even trust myself to differentiate between what’s real and what's not anymore.

I could hear two voices when there was only one person talking to me.

Despite all these, I continued with school and extra-curricular activities thinking it would eventually go away with enough rest, but that did not happen. Things got worse and at one point, I would even be hearing two voices when there was only one person talking to me. I eventually told my parents about it and we went to the nearest polyclinic for treatment.

Learning That I Was ‘Sick’

I was referred to the Institute of Mental Health (IMH), where I was assessed and eventually diagnosed with Psychosis, a mental illness where a person experiences hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions. Most people would associate IMH with ‘crazy people’ and shun the institution like it’s a disease. But I was relieved to be there and to find out that what I had been going through was real, that there was an explanation for it and I could get proper treatments for it.

Hitting Breaking Point

However, initial feelings of relief turned into fear. The fear of what people around me would think when they find out that I have a mental illness. The fear of going for treatments because if someone I know saw me, I wouldn’t know what to say. Most importantly, I feared that I wasn’t going to be able to recover. I could not even feel safe at home. I’d have nightmares and wake up with panic attacks. I was constantly on high alert, was very stressed and anxious all the time, and everything I did was a challenge. Even daily functions like bathing, brushing my teeth, and getting out of the house for lunch were a struggle. The breaking point came when I realised that I could not even trust myself about what I have heard and had to rely on others to verify the facts. It was so humiliating having to depend on others for something so basic. I started to binge-eat and suffered from insomnia. There were also periods where I felt completely numb and disassociated from everyone and everything. I felt like life was worthless and I became suicidal.

How was I supposed to keep up with everything when I was struggling so hard to even be alive?

Soon after, the doctor diagnosed me with depression. The fight against depression was long and difficult. It was especially tough when I had to go back to school. I hadn’t attended class for more than a month, my attendance was slipping, and I was often faulted for not contributing to group projects because I couldn’t turn up. How was I to keep up when I was struggling so hard to even be alive?

The Road To Recovery

My turning point came when my sister brought me to church. It was there that I found a community who loved and cared for me for who I am and not what I have. I was trained, taught, and given opportunities to rise up and do things I'd never thought I’d been able to do. These pushed me to progress in my recovery.

They were the reasons I held on a little longer each week.

My spirituality and relationship with God were what kept me going. I stopped feeling suicidal after having my own revelation that regardless of how tough life is, I’ll always cherish this life I have. My family played an important role as well, for supporting me in every decision I made and ensuring that I was taking the steps I needed to get me through every day. I was also in this mental health community called the Early Psychosis Intervention Programme (EPIP), where a caseworker will check on me frequently to ensure that I was doing fine. Being in Club EPIP allowed me to hone and strengthen my cognitive abilities which had deteriorated over time. It opened my eyes to the fact that I was not alone in battling my inner demons. The Peer Support Specialists there inspired me to believe that recovery is possible.

Getting A New Lease Of Life

It’s been 4 years since I was first diagnosed and I’m very grateful that today, I can say that I’ve recovered and no longer depend on any medications. Today, I have a purpose in life. I’m thankful and grateful for all the guidance I received from church and EPIP, and now that I’ve completed my degree and also graduated from the Peer Support Specialist course offered by the National Council of Social Service, I want to work in the mental health sector. Additionally, I’ve continued to serve in two ministries in my church (since my school days), and am volunteering at mental health organisations like Silver Ribbon and Institute of Mental Health.

Recovery Is A Journey, Not A Destination

This experience has changed my family and my mindset of mental illnesses. And it was through the trials that we grew closer as a family. My journey to recovery also taught us the importance of communication and ensuring that everyone in the family was doing okay in their lives. This journey has also taught me to love myself more, to take care of myself first before I can help others. It has taught me patience and trust especially in times of unknown and of distress. More than ever, I value health as an important part of my life today, and I take concerted steps to sustain my recovery. Recovery is a journey and not a destination. The process of recovery is far more valuable than the destination.

Spread Awareness Of Mental Health

Never judge a book by its cover. People suffering from mental illness don’t look any different from someone who does not. Do your part to spread love and kindness to everyone because a suicidal person could be smiling on the outside, but is actually waiting for someone to stop them from dying.

Don't think that you aren't able to help someone suffering from a mental illness.

Don’t compare mental illnesses because every symptom experienced by someone with a mental illness is very real. And if you think that you are not able to help someone with psychosis, depression, or any mental illness, know that this isn’t true. Your very presence in times of difficulty and distress means a lot to the person. A genuine “how are you feeling?” and listening to them sharing their deepest thoughts is perhaps all they need. Why should we treat mental illness as a taboo when mental illness is as important as our physical health? With World Mental Health Day round the corner, join us at the Voice Out concert at Singapore Botanic Gardens on Saturday, 7 October, to learn about mental illness and spread love. Also read, My Sexuality, My Right: “A Stranger Wanted Me To Apologise For My ‘Lesbian Appearance'”.