When I was 16, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety and social anxiety, but I had been living with both of them for as long as I can remember. The anxiety I dealt with, especially before I was diagnosed, was crippling. Stomach pain so bad I would black out, a constant nauseated feeling that resulted in me missing 20 days or more of school a year. I missed 180 days throughout my four years of high school. That’s an entire school year lost due to my anxiety.
Coming to college, I wanted to be a new person. I didn’t want my anxiety to hold me back from making friends, from accomplishing my goals or even living a normal life. There was one goal that I wanted to achieve from my very first semester at Edinboro: I wanted to be a Resident Assistant. The epitome of extroversion.
Being a Resident Assistant with anxiety, particularly social anxiety, can be extremely difficult at times. I love each and every one of my residents and I care for their well being—sometimes more than my own—but I am constantly worrying about how to interact with them. Knocking on doors for noise violations or even just to say "hi" can be an impossible task unless I prep myself at least five minutes before hand. I need to rehearse what I say multiple times. My mind spirals into scenarios of all the possible reactions I could face, good and bad. I’ve never had a problem with public speaking, oddly enough, because it is always scripted, always rehearsed. But small talk? Makes me want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
While speaking, my mind is racing with thoughts such as “You’re talking too fast. You’re talking too much. That was an awkward silence. They think you’re awkward. Are you sweating? They’re staring at you. Is there something on your face? They don’t want to talk to you. I think you should be quiet.” So I listen to the voice, more often than I should, and retreat to my room with my tail between my legs. When I have a good interaction with a resident and successfully complete small talk, I feel really good and really inspired to speak to more residents. But that lasts for about five minutes until I have an awkward encounter in the bathroom or I forget to hold the door or I just feel too overwhelmed to actually do anything.
Despite—or in spite of—this constant anxiety, where I honestly do not know what it feels like to not worry, I like to think I have been a good RA. I try to always be there for my residents, no matter how bad my day has been. I’m always proud of their triumphs and I commiserate their losses. I try and use my platform as a RA to educate and inform my residents, especially as my floor this year is all female. Anxiety, for anyone, is an uphill battle everyday against your own mind. But anxiety is manageable and you can do well in spite of it. Small victories count, too. My small victories are when I see my residents doing well in school, or they like my programs, or they interact with my bulletin boards. Even if my residents leave my care a little more prepared for school or life, I will feel like I have done my job. Anxiety cannot and will not take that from me.
