Everyone is looking at me. They’re laughing. I’m doing this wrong, and they can tell. I’m standing funny, I look weird, they can tell I’m anxious. I’m alone, and they know it.

These are some of the thoughts that would echo throughout my head on the rare occasions when I stepped into the outside world, my upper lip coated with sweat and my chest heavy with a racing heartbeat.

I was diagnosed with social phobia along with depression during my senior year of high school. Looking back, it was clear that I had some anxiety in school. Growing up, I was always a shy kid -- so shy that come senior year, most of my classmates didn’t even know I was still attending school. I lived a block away from my high school, about a five-minute walk, but I was too afraid to walk home from school and begged my mom to pick me up instead. On the few days where I had no choice but to walk home, my thoughts raced with anxiety and embarrassment, as I was certain all of my classmates in their cars or piled in the school buses were looking at me, laughing or disgusted for whatever reason.

Suddenly, my social anxiety became worse during the year off I took after graduating high school. I was too anxious to do anything, having panic attacks on the car rides to take a placement test for community college and having to turn around, having panic attacks after a new job orientation and having to quit before I even started. It got to the point where I stopped living. I became too afraid to even leave my house. When my parents tried their best to get me out of the house whether it be to go out to eat or go to a store, I’d cry and shake for what seemed like forever. I was certain that every person, every pair of eyes would be glued to me, judging me. It was scary, sad and lonely. None of us knew what to do.

Social phobia/anxiety does not make any sense whatsoever. It is a condition based on irrational thoughts. It was frustrating to live with it and not have my parents understand how or why I was so terrified of people, especially because I couldn’t even figure out why myself. I tried therapists, I tried medications, but there was no magic cure to make me feel comfortable with the world.

I quickly realized that the only way to get over my worst fear was to face it head-on, and I hated it with every fiber of my being at first. It wasn’t fair to me that I couldn’t just take some magic pill and feel secure with the world, but that’s how it is with every fear. You have to face them to get over them. It’s cruel, but it works.

After a few months of dealing with the worst of my social anxiety, my dad promised me that he would take me out somewhere every day until I started to get better. I wasn’t happy about it; in fact, I was terrified, but his solution, which seemed so simple, gave me something I thought I had lost: hope. We started that night by going out to a bookstore. I stayed glued to his side as I repeatedly wiped the sweat from my palms onto my jeans and was too in my head to even browse the books. In the midst of the chaos that was swirling around in my mind, I looked up, and noticed that everyone was minding their own business. Their noses in books, flipping through pages, ordering coffees, paying at the register. No one was staring at me; most likely, no one even noticed me, just like I had not noticed anyone either. It was then I suddenly realized firsthand that, much like myself, people are too wrapped up in their own thoughts to take notice to other lingering customers. It sounds so simple to comprehend, but my social anxiety was a fog coating my vision from seeing how non-threatening everyday people were. The more I went out in the world, the clearer my vision became.

My dad and I continued to go out together once a day for a few weeks, and then I was able to go out on my own. It wasn’t always easy, and I still dealt with sweaty palms and racing thoughts, but over time, those symptoms decreased. That year, I enrolled in community college while I joined group therapy with other people my age battling the same anxieties. This past year, I completed my first year away at school and now I’m spending my summer working in retail, where I talk to customers all day long.

I never thought I would be able to leave my house and feel little to no fear. It still lingers with me sometimes, but I am able to get through it. Now, I feel like I am truly living and have felt happiness and security for the first time in so long, perhaps ever. I never thought it would be like this.

Social anxiety can tear you apart. It can whisper or shout your worst fears to you. It can make you believe things that, deep down, you know are not true. But it isn’t a prison sentence. The best way to get over your fears is to feel them, accept them, and push through them. It’s not easy; in fact, it’s absolutely terrifying. But it is so incredibly worth it -- trust me on that. Feel your fears, but go through them anyways. Start small, start tiny, but if you can conquer a fear once a day and stick to it, you’re in for a world of possibilities.