Here is the great thing about Tumblr: A few people I know in real life follow me on here, but you’re mostly strangers. So I don’t feel bad about burdening you with my personal shit because you can just unfollow me if you aren’t interested!

I had another panic attack tonight. Were I not acquainted with panic attacks from our years together in my adolescence, I would have thought I was having a heart attack. It was the worst one I’ve had since I was 15. And yesterday’s panic attack was from the comfort of my apartment, whereas tonight was on Franklin St (and then it let up a little bit but came back in full force on Hollywood and Vine).

My New Year’s Resolution was to stop using my age as an excuse for my shortcomings. One major way I do this is as an act of avoidance for my social anxiety. I tell myself that as a 21 year-old there is no biological way for me to be good at interacting with other (older) humans and that as I age I’ll be better around people. But I was terrible around people when I was 14 and first diagnosed with social anxiety and I have to actively be better. “Growing up” isn’t going to make me better.

So, January 3rd I get an e-vite to a party. Before I can think about it I RSVP “yes” because I don’t want to be that person who says “no” to everything and then stops being invited to things. Cue me promptly vomiting and having an unpleasant, yet controlled panic attack in my bed. I then watched Hip Hop Penguin videos for about 2 hours because I’m super good at mistaking laughter-induced euphoria for personal contentment.

Then tonight, January 4th, I went to a show in which some of my friends were performing (also, a show I would attend and enjoy even if I didn’t know the performers). I went in with the idea that afterwards, I would go to the bar next door where said friends hang out after the show. I hadn’t been specifically invited, but it’s a bar! If nothing else I could have a soda or something and feel good that I addressed a fear. But as I exited the theater, I felt immediately panic-y. Not ready to give up, I walked into the bar, felt overwhelmed, and left. I left to go home, got down the block, and said “FUCK YOU ANXIETY! I’M GOING TO HAVE A DRINK IN A PUBLIC PLACE AND IT WILL BE FINE!” So I march right back up there, step right back into that bar, and feel so shitty and so panic-y and so anxious that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back into that bar without feeling terror.

Why am I blogging this? Part catharsis. But mostly because I’m so dead set on being a success story that I’m going to air all this! This is Part One of Caroline Deals With Her Anxiety For The First Time Since College Even Though She Doesn’t Have Health Insurance, or CDwhAftFTSCETSDHHI for short. That party that I RSVP’d to? That’s next week! And there is a good chance that I’ll chicken out and just not go. There is also a good chance that I’ll go, immediately start to freak and spend the night in the bathroom crying. But there is just a tiny sliver of a chance that I’ll go, feel anxious but work through it, dance and have fun and make new friends. And I want to be able to tell you guys when that happens and for you not to be all “Yeah, that’s what you do at parties. How is that even a thing?”

Thank you for your time. Remember, you elected to read it. I’ll blog some .gif of Ben Schwartz or something to pay you back.