Essay On How My First Job Beat My Chronic Anxiety

What does it mean to live an ordinary life? Is it the same for everyone or relative to your situation? By definition, according to The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, ordinary means: “of a kind to be expected in the normal order of events.” What is normal? What is an expected life? I was born into a supportive and loving family in middle class America. We took family vacations to the beach, mountains, and to visit grandparents out of state. I participated in countless sports and extracurricular activities from a young age through high school. From outward appearances, my family seemed to be living an ordinary life. Everyone and every family has a story, but mine appeared to be ‘normal’, almost boring. However, appearances can be deceptive. It’s not to say that my life or family was living a lie, but there’s only so much the outside world knows about each person’s private life. We’re all living with ‘secrets’ or personal struggles that others or outsiders don’t always know about. 

My personal struggle with anxiety started at a young age. It was easy to get away with as I was written off as ‘the shy kid.’ My parents would often answer for me when I was too uncomfortable to answer even the simplest question, such as “what is your name?” For years, I went on like this. Panic at the mere thought of a conversation with someone I wasn’t familiar with. I even recall my parents offering me a trip to Disney World if I could earn the “too talkative” comment on my elementary school report card. I first began to realize it was a problem when I struggled to hold a conversation with my own family members.

Once I got to middle school, both my parents and my doctor began to realize I wasn’t going to just “grow out of this.” I tried therapy, although I had a really hard time trying to talk about my feelings with a stranger and consequently gave up. For a while I just endured it, spending nearly all of my time outside of school in my bed, asleep. It came to the point where I developed chronic anxiety at the idea of spending time with my closest friends. I just wanted to stay inside to shelter myself from the nauseating feeling.

As soon as I turned sixteen, I realized the $10 a week from mowing the lawn was not going to be enough for a tank of gas, so I went to apply for a job at a local restaurant. Nothing scared me more than conversing with hundreds of strangers in one night. I arrived at my first shift, sweating, and heart pounding. For a majority of people, the first day at a job might be a little intimidating or uncomfortable, but my brain seemed to think it was life-threatening. I left my shift four hours later not feeling much better, however I went back again the next day. Every hour I worked, I felt more relaxed talking to the customers. After a few months and hundreds of hours of work, the apprehension started to wear off. At first, I presumed I was just becoming more comfortable with the job, but then I realized it was more than that. I was going out with my friends any chance I received instead of spending weekends at home. Even something as small as holding a conversation with a stranger was unimaginebale before, but I began finding it manageable. 

The experience I earned on the job had virtually disbanded my social anxiety. I wish I could go back and thank sixteen-year-old me for sticking with something I hated so much. Almost two years later I still work the same job and continue to feel like it helps me with my social anxiety with every hour I work.