I’ve known for a long time that I have some specific social anxiety. I first had an inkling of it at happy hours in my 20s, as I found small talk (especially among mostly strangers) to be exhausting. I chalked it up to introversion at the time.
I attended a wedding around 15 years ago where I realized it was something a little deeper. It wasn’t a big wedding–maybe 100 people–and I was friendly with around 20 of them. I didn’t have a date, and as soon as dinner ended and people broke off into little pods (and started dancing), I had a viseral sense that I didn’t belong. I quietly slipped out the back door and didn’t come back.
I’ve had this physiological response on a few other occasions over the years. Sometimes I just take a moment to collect myself in the bathroom and returned for another try; other times I’ve tried turned to a few drinks in an effort to chill. But every now and then I’ve simply given into my body’s threat response, choosing “flight”. I think I had convinced myself that it was a form of self-aware self care.
But then came this weekend.
On paper, this weekend should have been awesome: Nearly 5 days with 35 friends at a vacation home near Branson (a 4-hour drive from St. Louis). The weather was perfect, I didn’t have much work to worry about, and there was a decent amount of structure to the weekend (good for introverts). I’m not drinking right now, but I had some tasty non-alcoholic liquor alternatives so I could still mix drinks.
It started off well–right from the start we had dinner and an event (a 90s-themed party). I ducked away around 10:00, which is when I normally wind down for the night. I told myself that was normal and okay, even as the party continued well past midnight.
The next day was also pretty smooth. I ran an event in the early afternoon that went well and was low-stress (a version of Codenames with 25 people in place of the words). There was some idle time in the afternoon when an aimless feeling would creep up on me…I wasn’t sure what to do, and my perception was that everyone else was very content in what they were doing and who they were with. Whenever I had that feeling, I found an excuse to the bathroom, taking out the trash, etc. That night I again slipped way as soon as the evening party (a delightful marble derby) was over.
Saturday was…not good. Nearly the entire game was dedicated to a 9-hour megagame, which on paper should be a good thing (I like games!). The game was very well organized, and I enjoyed it at first. But the game was heavily dependent on deceit, deception, and forming secret cliques. I knew it was just a game, but as someone whose social anxiety manifests in a tiny internal voice that wonders if people actually want me around, the literal backstabbing happening in the game was increasingly dehibilitating. Meanwhile, I was seeing others struggle with the game, and I found myself slipping away more and more. It all came to a head when I made a few gameplay mistakes that caused some frustration around me. The last thing I ever want is to do something that makes any game or experience less fun for other people.
After making myself busy in the kitchen for a few hours that evening, I headed up to my room much earlier than normal. This time, I didn’t have a sense of serenity and calm; instead, it felt like a dark cloud hung over me. I kept trying to figure out it, but I couldn’t shake it. As time passed, all I could think was, “I need to get out of here.”
This was Saturday night. I hadn’t planned to leave until late Monday afternoon (the plan was always for Megan to get a ride home on Tuesday). I went to bed in the hopes that I’d feel better in the morning, but the morning only brought the realization that I had my car and could leave whenever I wanted. I gave into this realization when I learned that someone needed a ride to the airport around 3:00. After a fun early afternoon Stardew Valley party, I headed out.
This is the story of how I cut short my vacation in a beautiful house filled with wonderful friends. It doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t have a sense of calm. Instead, I feel ashamed that I gave into a flight response. In fact, I didn’t even label that response until a few hours ago when I Googled it to affirm my decision…only to learn that giving into flight is actually the exact opposite of what psyschologists recommend. I feel like I wasted an opportunity for growth and let down my friends in the meantime.
If I’m succumbing to a flight response in such otherwise wonderful circumstances (did I mention that Monday was a day set aside just to play tabletop games, literally my favorite thing?), then it’s really time for me to face this problem.
One of the things I read was to name the anxiety, hence this post. At least now I also know that flight isn’t self-care; rather, I can better take care of myself and those around me if I face this anxiety (easier said than done, but I’m aware of it now). I’m not exactly sure how to balance this versus introversion, because it’s perfectly fine for me to not want to be around people all the time. I guess I just need to make sure I’m not using introversion as an excuse to escape, especially when I could make small adjustments to actually have a good time with friends.
Have you ever experienced anything like this? I’m wide open to tips, feedback, and advice.
Hey Jamey, it takes a lot of courage to speak out-loud the fears that plague us in our inmost anxious thoughts. Thanks for opening up this conversation with your brave self-assessment. And I’m so sorry you went through this. I want to gently suggest that you don’t need to feel any shame for choosing to leave. What you felt wasn’t something you had the capacity to hold loosely in the moment. And hey, someone got a ride to the airport! That’s awesome that you could provide that for them.
I have 100% experienced exactly what you went through, and I 100% chose to flee. Multiple times. I can understand why the quoted psychologist recommends trying to tolerate, speak about, work through, and otherwise face the fears and dark empty scary feelings that border on rejection and feeling totally alone in a room full of people.
Do you remember when I let you know how anxious I was about going to Geekway, because I have this new scar on my face, and I felt very vulnerable? You were so kind, and you reminded me that you were a safe person I could go to if I needed to have a place to land. I knew that I had felt deep anxiety, specifically at Geekway, in the past, so I decided I wanted to try something new, and I reached out to you as a way to protect future me.
Maybe my advice to you would be to do something similar next time you know you’ll be in a big group–tell someone you know will be there whom you trust ahead of time about how you know you have tendencies to want to flee when you feel alone and anxious in groups. I bet they will be a safe person for you, too, and you will have that established before your feelings start to get the better of you. I know it helped me immensely just to be known in my anxiety and to have a plan for the future.
I think it’s also important to give yourself permission to not have to rise to every occasion or ignore your anxiety in the moment. If you have the latitude to breathe and remind yourself that the flight response will fade, then absolutely try that. But it’s definitely not shameful if you can’t do that in the future. Sending hugs!
Thank you for relating to this vulnerability. I think that’s excellent advice, and brilliantly specific–I can definitely do that.
I think the major signal to me that flight wasn’t the best choice for me was that I really didn’t feel any better after I left (though I did start to feel better after I wrote this).
I’m really glad the process of putting this into words and examining the pattern helped you start to feel better. It really is awesome how verbalizing something can aid healing. You take the terrible feelings outside of yourself and put them on the table, and everything starts to become just a little more manageable or even malleable. I recently started weekly counseling, and each session has a little bit of that benefit, feeling like I know myself a little better, and I’m inspired to try to look at the hard things in that light.
Hi Jamie,
I’ve been around the block a time or two with my own mental health (my official diagnosis would be Bipolar II; my self-diagnosis is seasonal manic depression) and of the disordered mental health states I’ve experienced, anxiety is by far the worst, so you have my sympathy.
Over the years I’ve gained insights and practical help from therapy, conventional medicine, and alternative health modalities (chiefly homeopathy and herbalism) to the point where I haven’t needed daily medication for over 10 years, only resorting to psychotropics for the rare relapse.
It’s certainly counter-productive to beat yourself up about how you reacted. On the surface at least, mental unwellness often doesn’t make sense–witness the people who seem to have perfect lives who commit suicide as an extreme example. Dig deeper, and I suspect you might (perhaps with help) discover what could be triggering you.
I like the idea of health being existing in the present, unconstrained. Our reptile brains exist in a sort of timeless reality and especially in moments of stress aren’t so good at distinguishing, say, my partner, who I love dearly and who I know wouldn’t deliberately hurt me from the parent who often made me feel small.
The pursuit of mental health is often about dredging subconscious feelings to the surface for dissection by the rational brain, the part of us we strive to keep in charge most of the time!
I appreciate you sharing this about yourself and your insights about the reptile brains. I’ll keep digging deeper, though putting words to all the insecurity triggers that happened during the megagame was when I felt like I had found the source (which really isn’t about the megagame at all).
Jamey – this really resonated with me, as I’ve dealt with anxiety and the flight mode in social situations most of my adult life.
I find that when I know I’m going to be put in a setting that involves a lot of people, whether it’s with family or a work function – I will feel the anxiety start to kick in days/weeks ahead of the event and I either find an excuse not to attend, or find that I turn around when driving to the event, or the bathroom excuse is a regular one I’ve used where I say I’m going but then continue onto the car park and don’t come back. This has happened multiple times at work functions, and at my sisters wedding that had over 200 people attend and I was in the bridal party – but I kept needing to excuse myself to find a quiet place.
For me it’s the tiny voice in my head that’s constantly telling me to leave the situation, and I feel terrible as it upsets work colleagues and family members, but I struggle to know how to cope with it.
I’m sure people think I’m being rude and subsequently don’t invite me to events, and from a work perspective ive found that over the years I’ve needed to find roles where I’m self sufficient/don’t need to interact with people too much.
As strange as it sounds the only thing that seems to have quelled the anxiety, to an extent, is the board gaming community. I’ve generally found (not always however) that the welcoming nature of these groups/gatherings has helped me relax and I get immersed in something I love doing, and the thoughts/anxiety seem to be kept at bay.
This past weekend I volunteered at an RUOK to Play event here in Melbourne – which shines a light on mental health awareness, and encourages people to come and play in a safe environment and to reach out to fellow gamers if they are struggling. We had over 100 people through the door, and I felt so happy in that environment.
I know I’m still a work in progress, but these gatherings are slowly helping me deal/manage my anxiety and flight tendencies. I hope that you find ways to deal with yours.
Stuart, I can completely relate to what you’re saying about dreading and sometimes skipping events, and like you, gaming events have been a wonderful refuge for me. I think that’s one of the reasons that the megagame was so particularly triggering for me (as it unfolded, what I considered a safe space started feeling quite the opposite). While that type of megagame might not be in my future, I won’t let it scare me away from the hobby I love. 🙂
Jamey
Thanks for sharing and I’m sorry to hear about the rough weekend. I am introverted (rarely make conversations with new people in large social situations) but do not suffer from anxiety.
However, Kaylen has had anxiety since middle school and the flight urge is very common for her. It was bad for a while, making it difficult to drive and eat in restaurants. Things aren’t that bad anymore but it still creeps up from time to time. Sometimes she overcomes it, but sometimes it’s too much.
The best advice I can give is to be kind to yourself and know that it’s ok not to be strong all the time. The anxious part of the brain isn’t rational so looking back it will always seem silly. I’ve learned with Kaylen that the most important thing is to be patient and push yourself when you can but also give yourself some grace when you need it.
Hang in there!
Thanks for sharing this, Pete (and Kaylen). I wish that part of my brain were more rational, but in the moment I was nowhere close to rationality. Next time I’ll try to find a better balance between grace and at least acknowledging that something physiological is happening.
I want to preface this by letting you know that at the late great age of 59, i was diagnosed with autism with ADD. This has been quite the year of revelations for me, as I learn more and more about my condition I have had many A-ha moments as I look back at notable events in my life. Many fight/flight/freeze moments that I was quite ashamed of, but now I know were actually my only way of processing my external environment with what was going on within me. Being this way, I have learned that I have a limited social battery. I am actually an extraverted person and there is part of me that craves social interaction, but like you, I suck at small talk. Actually, I just find it stupid. I love to have deep conversations, but surface-level crap just annoys me. I tend to mentally check-out or physically walk away when that happens, which some people will think of as rude, but in my mind is self-preservation. I love board gaming. I think because there is a structure to it, and I get my social interaction needs filled and my mind stimulated at the same time. But, that being said, I don’t like games with a lot of downtime. Games like that are just exhausting to me. I usually bring a crochet project to game night so that I can keep myself engaged. Again, something else that some people see as rude, but again-self preservation.
I think one thing having my diagnosis has given me, is the ability to be kinder to myself. To stop berating myself for not having a normal reaction to the world because the fact is, I am not normal-or rather, my normal is not the same as other people’s normal. So now I cut myself some slack. I am much better at knowing my limitations and not letting my social battery either deplete or get over-loaded. With the help of a great therapist, and drug therapy I am learning how not to get overwhelmed so much and gaining tools to handle various situations that use to freak me out.
I don’t know if anything I’ve said helps, but I hope at least you know you are not alone.
Thank you, Sandy. This resonates with me, especially the wonderful structure of board gaming and the commitment to being kind to myself.
Hi Jamey. Thank you for starting a conversation on this. As you can see in the comments: we are not alone. And I’m saying “we” here because I can totally relate.
I don’t have any official diagnosis and I’m also not looking for one, but I’m sure to be on the autism spectrum. I prefer to see the many advantages of my “disorder”, like my attention to detail and my hyper focus (when I’m “in the zone”), but of course it comes with some drawbacks. For me personally, social anxiety and shyness are among them.
Many people who know me don’t know I’m shy and really bad with people at all. I’m often, what I call, “on a stage” and when I am, I am playing a role. In my youth, I was an actor and that means I literally was on a stage oftentimes, and I had few limitations and anxiety there. Also, throughout my life, at school and at work and on other occassions, it took zero effort for me to take a mic and talk to 100 people and/or to be the clown. Or to be behind a dj booth and to dance where the entire room can see me. Or to be at Essen SPIEL and talk to strangers and explain a game to them. Or to be there and make silly jokes with my coworkers. Or to play a role and enthusiasticly ask a girl to dance with me. That last example is actually how I met my wife. But all those times, I’m playing a role. I’m not vulnerable Karel, I’m somebody else. Talking to 100 people? No problem. Having a 1-on-1 conversation with somebody I don’t know well enough? Terror. Until I get to know them better. With my friends, my colleagues, my coworkers in Essen that I’ve known for years, … I can be myself and take off the mask.
Do you see the parallels? Jamey the livecaster on Wednesday, talking to the YouTube community? Jamey the publisher, Jamey the game creator? Those are roles, right? And I don’t think it’s a problem if you turn to a role, for safety. At large events, I’m almost never a regular attendee. I always try to take on a role. On staff parties, I’m the deejay, watching everything from my safe dj booth. At Essen, I’m part of the Stonemaier team, representing a respected company. On various events, I’m almost always part of the organizing committee. That would be my advice to you: try to find safe spots and safe roles where you are not just an attendee. You can be the designated driver. You can be the one hosting a game. You can be the game explainer. You can be the cook. Most of the times, finding a role works out just fine for me. And don’t be afraid that people won’t get to know the real you. The example of me in my role, asking my wife-to-be to dance? She saw right through my mask, and immediately saw me for who I really was. We got together soon after. People who care will see you as you are.
One more thing: I know you are not very fond of going to gaming conventions. Let me say that, despite my social anxiety, I look forward to Essen Spiel so hard, every year. I hate crowds, and there’s a huge crowd there, but I love the Essen crowd. It’s so nice to know that all those thousands of people are there with a common interest: the love for board games. To me, that’s a safe space too. I don’t care for the crowds, but I love meeting my friends there and making new friends.
Always available to talk privately about this if needed.
Take care! -Karel
Thank you so much for sharing this, Karel. I like the idea of “playing a role”; it’s similar to a technique I’ve used of “find a job to do.” That’s been really helpful at various events, and I tried it at this recent event (I spent around 3 hours that evening preparing dinner and then cleaning the entire kitchen) after the megagame, but the role of “kitchen Jamey” was a little too late to make up for what I experienced and felt during the megagame.
Hi Jamey,
I wanted to thank you for sharing your experience with social anxiety in an open, public setting like that. You articulated some feelings I’ve always had, but never quite pinpointed how to describe them or how to cope with them. I am certain your post helped many people, and I wanted to send a thank you not only for myself, but also on behalf of likely hundreds of others.
Thank you to everyone here that has commented, too. These messages are making me feel like I’m not alone and are providing some excellent ideas on how to cope with the urge to use flight in many social situations.
Adam
Thank you, Adam. I was a little hesitant to write about it, but I’m glad I did–putting words to it was therapeutic, and the advice I’ve seen in the comments has been enlightening. I’m sorry you’ve experienced this type of social anxiety too, but you’re not alone.
I think we all feel this at times. I always get a hotel room fit myself I stayed of staying with the group. That way I can ge alone time. Maybe it’s just too much stimulation.
I agree that it’s nice to have some personal space to recharge. For me, I think I just need to be more aware of when I’m using that space as a crutch.
Jamey, hearing about this on this morning’s episode of Positively drove me here. My wife struggles with some significant diagnosed anxiety and I suffer from occasional struggles with it that mostly manifest in panic attacks and periods of depression. I have three bits of accumulated wisdom from experience that I hope might be of some help:
1. Find a source of strength to confront and wrestle with the source of your anxiety. Whether that’s faith, the need to be a leader, children, family, good friends, the desire to play future board games, or something else. You have responsibilities and people who need you to be the best that you can manage to be. I don’t know your actual life, but I would imagine that, as leader of Stonemaier, you know that the people who work for you depend on you and learn from you. I don’t mean this in some lofty king sense. That’s not what leadership is. Leadership is service. You are the servant of your people. It’s primarily on you to take care of them in the ways that you can and to help them in the ways that you can. You can help them better and take care of them better if you can push through and overcome your anxieties, and you can provide an example for them in doing so that helps them develop, too. This is just one idea of a possible source of strength to push yourself beyond your anxiety. You’ll need some reason, probably one outside of yourself, because we only really love ourselves so much.
2. Allow yourself grace. I make mistakes. You make mistakes. We all do. Leaders do. It is human to fail. But failure is not the end. You don’t always need to overcome your anxiety. Sometimes, you need rest or a break or an escape, even if it means not winning against your own anxiety. This leads me to my third point.
3. Have something or someone to lean on when you need it. For my wife, sometimes she just needs me to hold her against my chest. For me, it might just be doing something relaxing to me with my family. You don’t always have to be strong. Nobody is always strong. We all need breaks, and sometimes we need rest in our struggles with anxiety. Whatever it is for you – your partner, a good friend, a pet, a game, a sunset walk on the beach. Find it. Lean into that fallback when you need to, be graceful with yourself, and get back into the fight when you’re ready.
I don’t know if any of that will be helpful, but it has been helpful for my family. Godspeed in reckoning with this.
This is excellent advice! I really like the idea of finding a motivating source, allowing grace, and leaning into a reliable fallback. Thank you! 🙂
Thank you for sharing this. I, too, have been an introvert my whole life, and much prefer being alone than mingling with others, sometimes even if I know them well. I find this admission of yours to be keenly contrary to how you present yourself in your videos and company blogs, that is, SO confident, SO capable, SO focused on doing your best for your customers, your company, your personal circle, and yourself.
I’ve been in similar situations as the one you describe, where I should be enjoying myself but something goes off and everything turns dark. The disappointment of feeling negative about which you expected to feel so positive only accelerates the spiral. But I say that finding gaming groups has really helped me to put myself in situations where I would previously feel uncomfortable. Understanding there are likely other people there who aren’t very skilled in social interaction really helps. Not that it’s always a great experience. I go to one game night that has a few dozen people and there are many tables to sit at. I always choose an empty table because I don’t want to be “that guy” that people dont like, or are forced to play with as knowing they are uncomfortable would make me feel even worse. So I either have to wait until someone joins me, or I force myself to ask if there are openings if I see a game starting at another table. It definitely is not easy. And there have been many nights when I just left instead. But I keep trying, and I’m glad I find these groups as most of the time I do enjoy it.
I agree with others offering advice to find someone you really trust, where you can go to the them and say “I’m having a moment.” Ideally they can help take you out of the situation just long enough for you to gather yourself, recognize you’re going to be fine, you are in a safe place, and in your case, tomorrow will be better. You got this. If you can study abroad in Japan and run a company, you can handle a little awkwardness and recover nobly!
I appreciate your comment and candor, Rick. It’s inspiring that you keep putting yourself out there at the game night despite the social anxiety.
Hey Jamey,
Thanks so much for sharing this. I strongly relate to a lot of the feelings you shared about your experiences, and often have the same tendency to want to avoid situations where the feeling that I don’t fit in seems very strong and even overwhelming. I also really appreciated reading the feedback and advice offered by other commenters here.
I have found that for me, in similar situations (weekend getaways even with people I know fairly well and enjoy spending time with), it is helpful to plan or budget my time and set boundaries ahead of time. A weekend or even a full-day thing is a lot of time, and I think it’s OK to think up front about what I feel my “budget” realistically is in terms of spending that time. This helps me be more mindful of when it’s time to expend a little more social energy than I normally do in my day-to-day routine (which is a good thing and an opportunity for growth), but also recognize and even look forward to the fact that I have also carved out some time to myself (even in the middle of a weekend dedicated to fun), and that there’s nothing wrong with that. For me, knowing what those plans are (and that I have guilt-free rest time built into them) helps me “push through” when I feel my social battery is getting drained a bit.
Thanks for relating to this, Jared. I like the idea of time/energy budgeting–I do the same thing. Sometimes I feel like it prevents me from going with the flow and being spontaneous, so I’ve tried to be open to adjusting my preordained schedule if I’m feeling good (or feeling drained faster than expected). I don’t think I did a good job of that for the first two nights of this gathering.