True confession: I'm a bailer. Too often in social situations I decide not to go at the last minute. I've committed and told people I will be there but when it comes time to actually show up my social anxiety gets the better of me and I can't pull the trigger.
Case in point. This weekend we had a regional conference/outing for the single adults in my church. On a normal week my anxiety would be a hill I have to climb, but a particularly rough week turned that hill into a mountain. Now that's not to say I couldn't have strapped on my boots and conquered the beastly mountain. There are times when I have, but this wasn't one of them.
Activities were stretched over Saturday and Sunday. Saturday I didn't go to anything but at least I had Sunday where I could redeem myself somewhat. I agreed to help out with the food committee on Sunday in hopes that having an obligation would make it easier for me to get my butt out of bed. My sweet friend even reached out to make sure I had a ride.
I don't like the fact that I'm a bailer. I don't want that label or reputation. It's rude to others and doesn't serve me well. I guess the first step in remedying a flaw is acknowledging you have one. You can't change what you don't know. Just like I seek others' forgiveness, I have to forgive myself.
On the bright side, I have times where I conquer my anxiety and show up and those times usually turn out pretty well. The goal is to win more battles than I lose. That's what I'm working on.
This weekend's verdict: Social Anxiety - 1; Clarissa - 0. Battle on!