On motivation...or lack thereof...sort of

(Updated September 8, 2014)

I got very excited last night, felt called to the blogosphere and stayed up far too late setting it up.  I finally had to give in to the sandman shortly before 5am (yikes!) and today, looking back over it, I can't even remember exactly what it was I was hoping to accomplish with a blog.  Thus is the story of my life after children, not that I'm complaining, it's just the days of being able to stay up all night to get something accomplished and then getting to sleep in are long gone.  Such is my life, inspiration hits in the wee hours of the morning, gets me excited and fired up, but then has to be put on hold for sleep. And by morning, it's gone, just a sliver of what it once was, if I'm lucky. (Yep, STILL true!)

Social anxiety is often my motivation killer.  I've been suffering with it for as long as I can remember.  It's more than crippling shyness, it's life crippling.  It makes it impossible to do the most mundane sorts of things, such as using the telephone, going to the store, talking to strangers, even talking to FRIENDS! Everything I do is riddled with anxiety and unknowing, a constant fear of what will happen or what someone will be thinking.  It sounds absolutely ridiculous and it is, but it's real and it's my reality.  For years, I'd hear people talk about how they were "shy."  I'd smirk at their "ridiculous" assertion, because it was certainly never the shy I was accustomed to.  I'd never come across anyone even remotely close to being as shy as me.  I started to think maybe I was just some sort of super freak.  Until about six years ago, when I came across an ad in the paper looking for candidates to participate in a research study for social anxiety.  I met every qualification in the ad, so I promptly googled "society anxiety disorder," and lo and behold there was a big fat description of me staring back.  It turns out I wasn't a super freak (well maybe a little), but I did have a real problem, something that could be diagnosed and fixed.  The key words here are COULD BE.

So getting back around to my initial point of motivation, for me it's not always a matter of a lack of it so much, as a roadblock that stands between motivation and accomplishment.  I often set my sights on something, whether it be a degree or something as simple as going to the gym, and get knocked down by the force that is social anxiety.  All I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a teacher.  I spent all of my free time, from the moment I got home to the time I went to bed, teaching imaginary students.  Even when I played with other toys, like barbies or cars, it always came back around to a school setting.  But enter college and degree requirement sheets.  An education degree required speech.  I immediately dropped any class that notified me on the first day that we would have to give an oral presentation.  The thought of a intro to speech class looming overhead was unbearable.  The thought of one horrible speech was enough to make me sink into a hole, but multiple speeches,  that was unthinkable.  I eventually took the easy, and chicken way out, an arts and sciences degree that required no speech class.

Now that I'm a mom, I'm even more keenly aware of my problem and it's hindrance on everyday life.  My son (#1) is autistic (or his doctor is "highly suspicious" of that, I should say, we finally got that diagnosis, PDD-NOS and recently added ADHD to the mix, never a dull moment!) and at a point in his life where I need to be on the phone finding him good medical care, doctors, and therapies, and taking him out and about to mingle and socialize, but it's just.so.hard.  It's a constant battle against myself to even pick up the phone.  It feels like lead, I dial one number, hang up, try again, hang up, trying to remain calm, heart beating out of my chest, anxiety rising inside me, listening to the ring, waiting, praying for voicemail, so that I can place the ball in someone else's court.  I'm panicking now, just writing it, having to think about calling someone.  I've managed to get to the point, where picking up the phone to an expected call is manageable.  I suppose that's progress...I suppose.  I NEED to get this disorder under control, I HAVE to, and I WANT to, but there's one tiny catch.  The motivation is there to get help, but there is one huge obstacle in the way, the phone.  Getting help involves picking up the phone and calling, and I always find ways to put it off for another day, like somewhere around eight months worth of days.  Ridiculous I know, and probably impossible to understand unless you've been there, but nevertheless, the truth.

I don't know whether it's a natural late night high or lack of sleep (perhaps oxygen deprivation?) that halts my anxiety, but the motivation to change usually hits me in the wee hours of the morning.  I'll suddenly feel euphoric, full inspiration and ideas, on top of the world, and ready to tackle the anxiety, nothing standing in my way, but unfortunately at 3am, there's no one there to answer the phone, and by morning, after a small rest, it's gone, completely dead, and the day starts anew and unchanged. Maybe the next time motivation strikes in the morning hours, I'll find the courage to just dial.  Who knows, maybe they'll have an answering machine? (Finally, I did find the courage to call...and got an answering machine. Score! But that therapist turned out to be a total bust. The second one I found was awesome. After a year of therapy and meds, the strides I made were astounding. Do I still struggle? Yes. Will I ever truely be cured? No. It's a work in progress, but the changes have been huge and long lasting.)