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October 30, 2015
I have this great fear of confrontation that’s been with me for as long as I’ve been on the Earth. This inherent fear is probably the root cause of most of the lowest social points in my life.
I don’t know how I’ve ever made it without bursting my bladder. Most of the time, no matter how much my life depends on it, I wait it out to avoid asking to go to the restroom. Way back when, a teacher did the traumatizing “I don’t know, can you?” response when I asked to use the restroom, and ever since then, it’s been eternally engraved into my soul. Now I just sit there, suffering throughout class, attempting to make it through with a full bladder.
However, outside of school, it’s an entirely new problem. Whether in a restaurant, mall or shopping center, it’s the same story. I run around everywhere to find a restroom as it takes every ounce of courage in me to ask where it is. I have a horrible sense of direction, so even if I ask, I end up just spinning around in endless circles.
In these shopping centers, I spend hours on end attempting to find what I’m looking for. Often, someone will ask if I need any assistance, and I just impulsively say no to avoid any further conversation. In reality I really do need help, and I end up roaming about for hours. I always feel a deep feeling of regret after the first 20 minutes of aimless wandering, but as soon as I come across another employee, I just hurl myself in the other direction.
I love food just as much as the next person, but if it means I have to make casual conversation with a waiter or waitress, I’m more than content with starving until I get home. When I do have to order, I go for the shortest name on the menu no matter what it is to limit any confusion.
I don’t know if I have some hearing problem, but more often than not, I have to ask them to repeat themselves more than four times. It gets painfully awkward just exchanging confused stares and a bunch of “excuse mes” so I just agree to whatever it is they say, and it either turns out disastrous or completely fine. I’ve responded with “yes” to “what size?” and moments like those are when I have mental screams of agony. This is possibly the worst-case scenario for me, and unfortunately I’ve experienced it a thousand too many times.
I never return anything, no matter what it is and how bad it turned out for me. Half of my closet is filled with untouched clothing that just hang there with tags still on them because they don’t fit. I also have a drawer full of useless products that I have never even bothered opening. I would rather live with my unwanted products than return to the store and provide a face-to-face verbal reasoning on why I hated whatever it is I bought.
However, this irrational fear might be for the better, as without it I would probably be more expressive of the malicious thoughts and feelings I have toward certain people. It presents an endless list of issues for me, but thankfully, it also gives me barriers that keep me in place.
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