I'm currently in the process of converting my old Google account, which was essentially firstnamelastname@gmail.com, to my new Google account, which is the same thing with my married last name. As soon as I was engaged, I created that account, just in case any other Andrea Kanises out there were in a hurry to claim that Google name. I'm also considering buying the domain name. Anyways, I'm in the process of trying to move all of my old Google info to this account, but Google doesn't have a simple "Move your account," button, so it's taking a few weeks. I've just moved this blog to my new email, which is why it was on my mind.
Anyways, now I'm married and all that. Let me tell you something I've learned about married life: it sounds very boring. I mean this honestly. People keep asking me, "How's married life?" My response is always, "Oh, it's good!" I'm not sure what else to say, maybe something like, "Yeah... not so great, really... starting to rethink my choices..." In all honesty, though, it is good. There's just nothing fun to say about it. Sometimes, when people press beyond the "It's good," response, I'll try to let them know what married life is like. Example:
"Well, I did change my legal name and my license. Luckily, it only took about 30 minutes at the DMV, can you believe it? I finally have a new driver's license without that terrible picture of me when I was 16 and hadn't done my bangs properly that morning. Oh, and Mike and I spent yesterday deciding whether it would be cheaper to put me on his dental insurance or mine. I've never had a cavity, but I don't feel comfortable going without dental insurance, this would certainly be the year I broke a tooth. We ended up going with the one offered by my work. Oh, and we finally set up my 401k. Want to hear about that?? Oh wait, maybe that's something your not supposed to talk about, like salaries and politics and whatnot. [Note: Once your an "adult" with adult jobs and whatnot, conversation DOES become more limited. It's frustrating, because suddenly these rules of etiquette about what you can and can't discuss apply.] Oh, and let me tell you about my job! I--"
I will cut my monologue off here, because the account handbook at work says that we need to be discreet about work in our blogs, but I can assure you that my job is not interesting. I have a very boring, normal sort of office job. While I do love my boring office job, I can promise you that it is not fun to talk about, as Mike can verify. I have spent many days telling him about the intricacies of how our company works, only to realize that he is in no way interested, nor would any normal person be.
Anyways, that's married life. I can tell you that it is quite a happy time, but it is not interesting to talk about.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Social Anxiety Disorder.
In early college, I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder: An irrational fear of what other people are thinking, so strong that it interferes with daily life. One of the criteria is that the fear is so strong that the person realizes it is unreasonable. Have you ever had someone pass you giggling and you wonder if they are laughing at you? Imagine that everyone you fear that everyone you can see--regardless of their expression, of if they are looking at you--imagine that same feeling of, "Why are they laughing at me," amplified. That was my life. When I was diagnosed, my whole life suddenly made sense. It wasn't that everyone else was regularly more courageous than me or something, I just had some issues to work out. The treatment was simple. The doctor showed me that my fear was unreasonable and helped me realize why I was afraid. This, more or less, solved my problems.
However, I believe that my social anxiety caused my family some concern and confusion in my early life. They did not understand why I acted so unreasonably. There was a phase in middle school where I refused to go to ANY store with my family. Restaurants were entirely out of the question. Thus, I would like to post an insider's view into the thoughts of someone in middle school.
Imagine that you are a 14 year old girl and your mother is taking you grocery shopping. You don't want to go, but have to because it's on the way and she's not going to leave you sitting in the car that long. You walk into the store.
Oh no, why are there so many people here? Who wants to go shopping on a Tuesday afternoon anyways? Why are they looking at me? Oh, gosh, they must think that I look like an idiot. I wish I wasn't wearing a blue shirt--Mom, what are you doing? DON'T WALK TO THE CHEESE SECTION, MOM, PEOPLE CAN SEE US... oh crap, she's looking at the cheeses.. WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK? Don't pick it up, please... DON'T ASK ME! STOP TALKING SO LOUD! PEOPLE CAN SEE US! They're going to think we're the silly people who have to discuss cheese choices... Maybe if I fold my arms tighter they'll stop looking at me. I wish I could just fade into invisibility... I do NOT like grocery shopping. AGH MOM STOP ASKING ME ABOUT BREAD, LETS JUST GO!
That was a regular day inside of my head. Here's another example. You're 18, in New York for the first time with your family, and your mom sees a little local breakfast shop and takes you all inside. You are asked what you want to eat. You stare at the guy taking your order blankly.
What do people eat in New York? Bagels? I've never really had much experience with bagels.. how do you eat bagels? What do you put on bagels? I really want pancakes. Nobody is ordering pancakes. I guess people don't eat pancakes in New York... If I order pancakes, will they think I'm fat? Can they tell I'm a tourist?
"Andrea, are you going to order?" asks Mom.
Oh, no, Mom, please don't ask me that, I just don't know.. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO ORDER BAGELS PROPERLY.
This story ends with Mom telling me to just go outside since I've become mute. I left the restaurant and cried. I intended this post to be humorous, a way to laugh at my past, but the more I write, the more serious I feel.
It's also strange because there are certain times or people that grant you immunity. Whenever I was with Dustin, for example, I had immunity. This was because, in my mind, nobody would judge Dustin poorly. Being with people like Dustin, Trish, Leah, or a few others, granted you so many cool points that nobody would think badly of you. It's strange how irrationally this fear works. Also, there were safe places. The choir room, for example, was somewhere that I was as outgoing as I wished. This was because I excelled at choir and everyone knew it. In that domain, I was on top, so there was nothing to fear. The rest of the world was full of terrifying strangers.
The therapist, a nice young grad student, helped me through my problems. She taught me to analyze my thoughts. Why do you think people are judging you? Do you judge everyone you see? Do you even pay attention to them? She even took me on a trip to the library where I followed her from a distance and acted ENTIRELY ridiculous, doing silly things like dropping her keys and asking for books and a turning point occurred in my life. Despite her ridiculous antics, nobody noticed. Or even cared.
It's funny to see the changes in my life. I can go shopping now. Do you realize how strange that is? I can go into a store and pick out clothes that I think are legitimately cute, not just clothes that I think would fade into the background. I can purchase these clothes. At restaurants, I don't get the most "normal" choice, I get what I really want to eat. I sometimes still have troubles going into new stores or trying new things, and sometimes it can be difficult for Mike and I to try new things, since he also suffered from Social Anxiety Disorder. But we help each other through it, and overall I'm much cured from where I was. I guess it was convenient that the solution was as simple as allowing someone else to help me reason through my thoughts. I wish all problems were that easy.
However, I believe that my social anxiety caused my family some concern and confusion in my early life. They did not understand why I acted so unreasonably. There was a phase in middle school where I refused to go to ANY store with my family. Restaurants were entirely out of the question. Thus, I would like to post an insider's view into the thoughts of someone in middle school.
Imagine that you are a 14 year old girl and your mother is taking you grocery shopping. You don't want to go, but have to because it's on the way and she's not going to leave you sitting in the car that long. You walk into the store.
Oh no, why are there so many people here? Who wants to go shopping on a Tuesday afternoon anyways? Why are they looking at me? Oh, gosh, they must think that I look like an idiot. I wish I wasn't wearing a blue shirt--Mom, what are you doing? DON'T WALK TO THE CHEESE SECTION, MOM, PEOPLE CAN SEE US... oh crap, she's looking at the cheeses.. WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK? Don't pick it up, please... DON'T ASK ME! STOP TALKING SO LOUD! PEOPLE CAN SEE US! They're going to think we're the silly people who have to discuss cheese choices... Maybe if I fold my arms tighter they'll stop looking at me. I wish I could just fade into invisibility... I do NOT like grocery shopping. AGH MOM STOP ASKING ME ABOUT BREAD, LETS JUST GO!
That was a regular day inside of my head. Here's another example. You're 18, in New York for the first time with your family, and your mom sees a little local breakfast shop and takes you all inside. You are asked what you want to eat. You stare at the guy taking your order blankly.
What do people eat in New York? Bagels? I've never really had much experience with bagels.. how do you eat bagels? What do you put on bagels? I really want pancakes. Nobody is ordering pancakes. I guess people don't eat pancakes in New York... If I order pancakes, will they think I'm fat? Can they tell I'm a tourist?
"Andrea, are you going to order?" asks Mom.
Oh, no, Mom, please don't ask me that, I just don't know.. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO ORDER BAGELS PROPERLY.
This story ends with Mom telling me to just go outside since I've become mute. I left the restaurant and cried. I intended this post to be humorous, a way to laugh at my past, but the more I write, the more serious I feel.
It's also strange because there are certain times or people that grant you immunity. Whenever I was with Dustin, for example, I had immunity. This was because, in my mind, nobody would judge Dustin poorly. Being with people like Dustin, Trish, Leah, or a few others, granted you so many cool points that nobody would think badly of you. It's strange how irrationally this fear works. Also, there were safe places. The choir room, for example, was somewhere that I was as outgoing as I wished. This was because I excelled at choir and everyone knew it. In that domain, I was on top, so there was nothing to fear. The rest of the world was full of terrifying strangers.
The therapist, a nice young grad student, helped me through my problems. She taught me to analyze my thoughts. Why do you think people are judging you? Do you judge everyone you see? Do you even pay attention to them? She even took me on a trip to the library where I followed her from a distance and acted ENTIRELY ridiculous, doing silly things like dropping her keys and asking for books and a turning point occurred in my life. Despite her ridiculous antics, nobody noticed. Or even cared.
It's funny to see the changes in my life. I can go shopping now. Do you realize how strange that is? I can go into a store and pick out clothes that I think are legitimately cute, not just clothes that I think would fade into the background. I can purchase these clothes. At restaurants, I don't get the most "normal" choice, I get what I really want to eat. I sometimes still have troubles going into new stores or trying new things, and sometimes it can be difficult for Mike and I to try new things, since he also suffered from Social Anxiety Disorder. But we help each other through it, and overall I'm much cured from where I was. I guess it was convenient that the solution was as simple as allowing someone else to help me reason through my thoughts. I wish all problems were that easy.
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