5. Shop

Doing crazy things. Losing control of your faculties. Unable to coordinate your muscles with your brain. A shyfighter knows what I’m talking about. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, just walking can be difficult. Just like the classic ‘walking in treacle’ dreams, that so many of us have had. When burning up with shyness, you can do the most strangest of things. 

I guess it’s all connected to your brain. As we’ve seen in animation films, our minds are crewed by many little critters; pushing knobs and pulling levers. Trying to keep us upright and coherent. But, and I’m only guessing here, when a wave of shyness hits, it’s all hands on deck; hoist the main sail, haul in the rigging etc. The little critters inside my mind run around screaming. Bumping into each other. Knocking levers accidentally with their elbows and sitting on buttons. That’s my excuse anyway. My stumbling awkwardness is not my fault. I suddenly become a giant awkward puppet, or robot. With the Little Me's inside my head struggling to control my arms and legs. I look on helpless, unable to control my body myself. A mere spectator. Hence the terrified look on my face when stuck in an embarrassingly shy situation. Wouldn't you be terrified if you didn't know what your body was going to do next?!

One particular occasion that I remember well, was about fifteen years ago, when I suffered more from shyness than I do now, but less so than when I was a kid.  I was in an outlet mall in America. I sauntered into a clothes shop, trying to look nonchalant, but instead looking awkward and of course suspicious. When I’m with someone else, I feel more comfortable. I feel that I look less like a criminal. After all, Jack the Ripper didn’t do his dastardly deeds whilst walking along chatting to his mate. If you’re alone, you instantly look devious. A trouble maker. Someone to be watched. Which is not what a shy person wants! I worry about looking shifty..and so of course look shifty. 

Anyway, as I was saying, I was in this clothes shop, trying desperately not to look shifty; getting hotter and hotter all the time. The last thing I wanted to do was to start to sweat, as that would also make me look like a rather dubious fellow, a rather dubious fellow indeed. And so therefore, in my desperation to not sweat, I, of course, started to sweat.

I could feel myself losing control of my body. Having to concentrate on the simple things, like walking. The critters in my head were already starting to bump into levers and sit on buttons.

I started to finger my way through some clothes that I stumbled into; not really interested in them. But if I wanted to avoid being arrested for being shifty, I had to start showing some interest in the clothes around me. I grabbed a garment and tried it on. Horror of horrors, I couldn’t get it on. It was way too tight! I was stuck with it wrapped around my head. Some painfully embarrassing moments followed, whilst I attempted to get the item off. What was my body doing?! Why did it grab that particular garment? I wasn't even that interested in it.

Now, I’m not sure how, but, having gone nutty bonkers over the fear of looking awkward and dodgy, I somehow didn't notice that I was in the women's section and therefore was trying to squeeze a tiny lady's item over my head.  Noticing this (as I peered, tunnel vision, through the neck hole of the top) did not, unsurprisingly, do wonders for my anxiety!  The shyness afterburners were lit up and I was heading for Mach 3.

It was not easy getting the garment off. I can’t remember what type of garment it was, probably a jumper, but I do remember that classification of the item was not at all important at the time. Or indeed subsequently. I was fully focused on getting the dratted thing off. For those few moments of terror, that was all my life was about. Nothing else in the World mattered. Tunnel vision. Not just visually, down the neck of the top, but also with my focus, and will. That Dunkirk spirit. My Waterloo. I had super strength. Like pulling someone out of a burning building. But despite my Jedi focus, I still couldn't get the naughty thing off!

I struggled for days, getting it off. Felt like that anyway. I was so hot. And of course couldn’t see if anyone was watching me and hysterically laughing. Or even worse, just staring and grinning. Enjoying the show. I remembered it being quiet. Not many people around. But not quiet enough. I eventually got my sworn enemy off me and quickly back on the rack. My own shirt had of course nearly come off with it, so I was almost half naked for a few precious nanoseconds. My hair, though short, was sticking in all sorts of previously unknown to science directions. I casually straightened my clothes, smoothed my hair, coughed politely, smiled at no one in particular, and walked out of the shop, like Inspector Clouseau after an embarrassing fall.

Another occasion, another shop; possibly on the same trip to America; I had another awkward moment. I was walking around a book shop and, as is common with me, I was browsing for a considerable time (people often rush me past bookshops for this reason) and was conscious that I was often looking around me to see who was looking at me. But this quite standard shyness habit obviously made me look shifty. Being aware of this, I often pick up books, even if I'm not interested in them, just to show that I am genuinely browsing. But of course, doing this; holding the book upside down, with my eyes flitting backwards and forwards above the book, just makes me look even more like your steriotypical dodgy fellow.

Whilst creeping around the shop like this, getting hotter and hotter under the collar, as I felt everyone's eyes boring into me, I suddenly heard one of the shop staff refer to someone looking shifty. That they/me had been in the shop for ages. They were talking to security. Mall security possibly. I of course immediately thought that they were talking about me. A shy person always thinks that they are the centre of attention. The person that everyone is looking at. And they probably were looking at me. If I had seen myself in the mirror, I would have probably performed a citizen's arrest on myself!

I beat a hasty (nut not too hasty) retreat. Not too hasty, in order to look innocent, but also because I was struggling to walk properly. A bit like the big bad in 'Men In Black'!  I was concentrating too hard on being 'normal'. Concentrating too hard on the difficult art of walking. You mess it up when you concentrate on it.

I remember another visit to a bookshop when I was about ten. In England. I was out with my mother and grandmother and was left in this shop to look for a book. But I just couldn't find one I wanted. I started to get very nervous, because I could feel, or believed that I could feel, everyone looking at the silly boy that couldn't find a book he wanted. They were not of course, but try telling that to a shy person. 

After a few weeks (20 minutes) of staring at the books, I just grabbed one in desperation. I was getting hot and itchy and was super keen to get a book, but believed that I was about to get my collar felt for being a shifty bounder. The book I grabbed had a cartoon image on the cover, which attracted me. A cartoon image of Adolf Hitler. It was called 'Unaccustomed as I am to Public Speaking..'.  It was a book about..oxymorons is it? I forget the word for it now, but basically it was a book about this particular type of speech. Not something that a ten year old would be interested in! But I was terrified and torn up with shyness about being in the shop for so long. Looking like a dastardly fellow. I had to get out, but was determined to get a book! 

I remember the man at the counter staring at me, then at the book, then back at me again. No doubt trying to figure out why on Earth I had bought it!

I couldn't get out of the shop quick enough. Heart pumping, sweating, whilst other kids walked around me, casually in and out of the shop, without a care in the World.

These days, I use my kids as a foil when in a shop. I still get a bit fidgety and nervous when in a shop on my own, but when with others, especially my kids, I feel that I don't look awkward and shifty. As I've said before, It's the fear of looking shy that makes you feel all the more shy.

4. Scary

Everything is reversed when you're shy. What terrifies 'norms', as I call them, holds no fear for a shyfighter. Whilst things that terrify us, create not so much as a pause for thought for a norm.

At times, I have looked like the boldest resident of  Bold town, Arizona. Whilst at other times, I have looked like a scared rabbit, caught in headlights.

With a shyfighter, the activities that show our bold bravery, are always stereotypically hardcore, super tough, or super embarrassing situations. That's what they would be to a norm. Whereas the activities that show our timid shy side are always simple things; like opening a door. Yes, when younger, I used to worry about which way a door would open before I walked up to it. Calculating the odds as I approached. I've always been a wiz at maths, so it never took me long to figure out that the odds were 50/50; [y-mn + x over b&q squared =50/50].

I would glance from side to side, looking out for laughing witnesses should I get the door opening operation wrong. Often, because of the awkward way I would have approached the door, I would stumble and trip, like Jim Dale in a Carry On movie, banging the door on my foot, or sometimes my face. Creating a public episode that, the more I fight to get out of, lasts longer and longer. Wrestling in a straight jacket of embarrassment. A jacket that I myself decided to put on as I approached the door. I would then melt with embarrassment of course, making the simple task even more difficult to perform. As I've said before, it's like struggling to get a tight fitting jumper over your head in public.

So you experience the fear. Extreme fear, about which way a door opens. But when faced with scary, or truly embarrassing situations, the shyness disappears. I have stood up in front of people and given speeches before. No shyness. Well, not much anyway. Performing with far more confidence than others giving a speech both before and after me. I've gone on blind dates and been perfectly fine. Totally blind dates mind. Before the internet. When all you knew about the person was their name and landline number. No photos. This was the mid-nineties. I would breeze into the pub, fully confident, despite knowing that the lady had no idea what I looked like. The reason? Because I was supposed to be shy.

What terrifies a shyfighter, like myself, is the fear of not being able to do something with aplomb that norms can do without even thinking about it. Like opening a door. You fear being laughed at and stared at, like an animal in a cage behaving in an amusing fashion. Everyone thinking you a fool because you can't do the simplest of tasks. But the expected emotion on a blind date is fear, so therefore the shyfighter doesn't feel that emotion. Instead, in my case, I basked in the warm knowledge that it was ok to be nervous and scared. It was allowed and expected. I knew that the other person on my blind date would be terrified. I wasn't alone being shy! Because of this extremely comforting realisation, I felt the opposite sensation; confidence. Chilled out and relaxed. Like I've had a bit of booze. I think this is why it's always the shy ones that step forward, unto the breach. The silent heroes. They're at their best when everyone else is terrified. They fill with confidence as they realise that everyone else is feeling the same terror.

As an adult, I still suffer from a bit of prickly heat if I, for instance, walk to what I think is a break in a wall in a car park, or an entrance to somewhere, only to find that I have to turn around and walk back the way I had come to find the correct route. No where near as bad as when I was younger, when I would melt on the spot, but definitely still slightly noticeable. When younger, I would put on a bit of a performance for all the people that I assumed were staring at my error. I would pat my pockets and scratch my chin, giving me a valid reason to have to turn around, as if I had dropped my wallet or something. It was hoped that that would make people think that I hadn't made the mistake of going the wrong way to begin with. But if someone asked me to stand on that same wall without a gap, or on a soapbox by the entrance that wasn't an entrance, and tell gathering onlookers what had happened, in a loud voice, I would, well, I would be less nervous than simply turning around and looking for the gap in the wall. It would be something that anyone would be shy about and so wouldn't affect me as much.                                                   The more silly and plain bonkers the situation, the less shy I am. That's why casual gatherings, like parties, terrify me so much. They are supposed to be so laid back and chilled out. Meaning that any sign of shy nervousness looks ridiculous; meaning that I get drenched in shyness...and sweat. 

So there you have it. Shyfighters get nervous in supposedly relaxed social situations, precisely because they are supposedly relaxed social situations. Any nervous shyness stands out a mile. But in a generally nervous situation that's affecting everyone, any signs of shyness are not noticed. Such emotions are swamped and hidden by the disquiet that surrounds you. You no longer feel that you are sticking out like a sore thumb. You are camouflaged. You blend in and your shyness evaporates.  

Think of a grey Lego brick. when surrounded by chilled out white bricks, the grey brick {we will call him Jon..for twas his name}, stands out horribly. But when the shit hits the fan and all the white bricks turn black in distress, the grey brick is hardly noticeable and indeed more 'white' now than those around him. Shyfighters can often cope better in scary situations because they spend a lot of their lives in scary situations. On edge. Feeling uncomfortable. Certainly, in my case, when confronted by something unusual and unnerving, I cope better than all the 'white bricks' around me. 

3. Tactics

So, let’s have a look at some tactics that I’ve used over the years in an attempt to fight shyness. 

To begin with, don’t employ the standard method of picturing anyone naked. It certainly doesn’t work for me anyway. Firstly, that’s not a pleasant tactic if you’re at a family party! And secondly, when I look down at myself, I find that, in my head, I’m also naked! 

Go slow 

         Because you tend to lose control of your body when in the grip of shyness, it’s best to slow everything right down. Gradually reduce the speed of your whole body. If you happen to be a TV survival expert, lower you heartbeat too. Walk in slow motion. If you walk and do all your motions slowly, you will greatly reduce your chances of falling over (like Jim Dale in ‘Carry on Doctor’.. be watchful for any hospital trollies in your path!). The last thing you want to do is stumble and knock into anyone you shouldn’t, drawing unwanted attention to yourself. 

         It’s tricky concentrating on slowing yourself down. Especially walking. But it definitely helps control the anxiety. As I’ve often said to myself; “ease down Ripley..ease down. You’re just grinding metal”. Using a mantra, like that quote from the classic movie ‘Aliens’, calms me down somewhat. Slowing down allows you to take in your surroundings. Think of the situation you’re in as being like playing a sport. Slowing the game down helps you ‘take in the room’ and better decide and implement what you are going to do next. What you are going to say next. Where you are going to put your foot next. Or your hand. Your limbs can develop minds of their own when you are gripped by shyness. Slowing yourself down pulls in the reigns on that bucking bronco of a body of yours. 

        I also slow down my talking. Not in a way that makes it look like my batteries are running low, but instead by increasing, in time, the gaps between my words and sentences. But again, being careful not to make it look like my circuits have fried mid-sentence. So long as you can still keep the sentences flowing, just slower and more thoughtful, giving yourself time to think, you’ll be less likely to trip over your words and say absolutely the thing that you most definitely shouldn’t!

Look up

       It’s tempting to stare at your feet and gingerly look up, all coyly, like a Princess, when confronting the people types that totally surround you. But when you’re a bum scratching bloke, the image of a demure nervous young lady doesn’t work quite so well. So look up. Not only do you look tough when staring a lion in the eye, or Auntie Nora, or whoever. Not only do you look tough, but you also take in the room. Breathe it in. Inhale the room like it's fresh air on a mid-summer's rainy morning.

       I’ve found that looking at the ceiling, taking in where the four corners of the room are, quickly studying all the furniture and numbers/whereabouts of people, makes the room seem smaller to me. It's a bit like completing a jigsaw puzzle. Corners first, then the sides. Knowing your surroundings, where the limits of the room are, makes you feel bigger within it and helps to makes those nasty loud areas, where the trendy people hang out, a bit less scary. Every room with a lot of people has one of those areas. By simply looking at the area with you HUD (Heads-Up Display), like the Terminator, you'll feel more comfortable with it. Like the spider that you can see clearly, rather than the one you can't. Information is King. Scan the trendy zone...scan the room...but don't terminate anyone!

       Imagine what's outside the room; what's outside the building. Look down on the tiny building from above. See how insignificant the building and It's contents are. Imagine that you and your ego are almost too big to fit inside it.

      Once you have a handle on the room, you need to focus on the small blobby things moving around inside it. Mark your targets. Recognise any threats. Study the people around you, rather than trying to not look at them. If you are still staring at an area of ground a couple of metres in front of your feet, the sounds of the unseen room, above your eyeline and to either side, will sound more menacing. Like being the other side of a door and not wanting to open it because of the noise coming from the other side. 

     ‘Taking in the room’ is of course a tactic used by many people, for differing reasons. It really helps for shy fighting.

Stand tall 

      An obvious one. Nothing new here. But it works. We are animals after all. You can dominate someone just by being taller than them. However ‘party confident’ they may appear, you can earn some serious ‘status credit’ just by having a straight back and lifting yourself up off your heels somewhat. 

Gain the high ground. Just a few centimetres is enough to make those around you think more of you. It’s daft, I know, but true. Height is up there with salary, when it comes to grading people. And the more you notice someone showing you more respect, the more confident and less shy you will instantly become. Certainly for me, shyness is mostly caused by my perception of what other people think of me. So if I can feel the respect coming off someone just because I’m doing a bit of pointe work with my toes, then I become almost comfortable in the room. Well, with the exception of my toes of course. 

The other thing standing tall does is it raises your head out of the scary crowd. Like Bilbo Baggins climbing that tree and raising his head above the tree canopy in ‘The Hobbit’.  Breathe in that clearer, less stifling atmosphere. And, just like Bilbo, you’ll be able to see the edge of the forest and; as discussed above; be able to take in the room.

Legs apart

        It’s a fact. I’ve studied it. The more confident a party goer is, the further apart their legs are. With some people it’s comical to watch. Standing by a fireplace, talking typical party talk;  money, what car you’re currently driving, laughing loudly at every joke. I seriously wonder sometimes if these people are suffering for their art. It must hurt after a while. You could pull a hamstring, or something. But it’s worth trying. If you don’t go too far that is. 

       Be warned though. Spreading your legs can have damaging consequences. You lose height. It’s basic science. Newton’s third law. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. (He must have come up with that at a party). You sacrifice a certain amount of height due to the spread of your legs. It’s important to get the calculation right. A good balance between leg spread and height. And of course, you need the height to sacrifice in the first place. So better not to do the splits unless you are at least 6 foot 1. 

       Talking about science, serious leg parters have to compensate by bending over backwards. I’m not sure how that balances it out. I would have thought that bending forwards would be better (I’ve tried). But my observations of these ‘leg parters’ say otherwise. Something to do with thrusting your ‘confidence’ at people, maybe. But anyway, it seems to work wonders. Try it for yourself. It might look ridiculous, but people will look at you with respect if you do it. Especially at a party. And especially whilst standing by a fireplace, if you can find one. 

        So…legs apart, thrusting your confidence at those unfortunate enough to be standing in front of you. Just be careful about being too pantomime about it, and watch out for any strains and sprains. 

       I don’t know if all this means that it’s dangerous to be overly confident, but I guess it could be. Painfully so.

That’ll do for now. Don’t want to blow all my overcoming shyness tactics in one go. I’ll save some others for a future chapter.

2. Weddings

The Wedding.  The Monster Truck of all Parties.  The Big Boss fight.  God's teeth, what a monster!  My Holmes to your Moriarty.  Damn your hide sir!..if it is not the toughest test one can have set upon themselves.  I exaggerate not.

The wedding is indeed the true nemesis of every shy person. Well, certainly me anyway. I have done my best to avoid them over the years.  

I've only been to six weddings in the past 49 years. My own wedding was a very quiet affair. So intentionally low key that I almost forgot to go to it myself. Only four people were present, including the bride and groom! Everyone else wets themselves with excitement when they get invited to a wedding, but to a shyfighter, it's a deadly trap. Once invited, you can't say no. Being called up for National Service, or jury detail; neither have the same force as a wedding order...ah...I mean 'invite'. There's this unspoken rule that a wedding 'invite' is more important than life itself. Daft, but try telling that to your blokey mate. So a shyfighter has no choice other than to just get on with it. 

At weddings, I always feel like I'm the bride. Everyone is staring at me. No matter how silly that sounds. And no matter how similar I look to all the other penguins in their cheerful black costumes. All it takes is for one person to rest their eyes on me for an instant and I feel like the whole World is watching me.

Each wedding I go to I get better at it, but it's still oh so difficult to deal with. I think that, to date, at age 50, I've managed to only go to 6 weddings. Quite an achievement that. I know of people that do that many in a month! During 'wedding season' anyway. 

As you turn up at the church, or wherever, you have to immediately deal with the main hurdle of the day; Milling. Having to hang about aimlessly with other people hanging about, has always been very awkward for me. I would rather nail myself to a chair and table somewhere. A shy person always looks awkward and clumsy when standing, not doing anything. At least that's what I always believe.

 As with any party, you have to perform this synchronised milling dance. Most people effortlessly move from one conversation to the other, criss-crossing paths with people in the crowd. It's like watching the Red Arrows display team. Or like being in the middle of a high society Victorian formal ball dance.."may I have the next chat sir?" All the dancers smoothly shifting from one conversation with one person, to exactly the same conversation with another. To a shyfighter however, it's a car crash waiting to happen. Like running across a motorway with your eyes shut. You stumble about aimlessly. Bumping into people. Terrified of getting eye contact with those that you know, but rarely speak to. Not because you dislike them in any way, but because then you would have to grin mercilessly at them in acknowledgment. 

The above mentioned 'milling dance' normally takes place at the beginning of the wedding. Always the worst time during the event. Things tend to generally get better as time goes on and people get drunk. I tend to think that they are not staring at me and judging me as much then.

Sitting for the ceremony is a blissful respite from the horrors of milling. But you know that come the reception, you'll have to start milling again, until you can swim through those shark infested waters to a raft of some description. Maybe a piece of driftwood, or an unoccupied inflatable dingy. But most likely a round table or sorts. With some chairs.

Back to milling; you have to keep moving when attempting to mill. If you stop, you might get stuck standing next to someone, just as the person they were talking to (about their job/cars/how wonderful Stephen Fry is etc), dances off into the crowd to repeat the same lines to someone else. Suddenly they are stuck with you. And that's the issue. The fear for shyfighters isn't about getting stuck with someone yourself. It's about them getting stuck with you! It's an awful feeling when you know that the person standing next to you would rather be anywhere else. Frustrating too, because you know that you're a witty respected fellow in other more comfortable surroundings, but here, shyness has turned you into the most boring and uninteresting person imaginable. And if you only see these people at parties, their opinion of you will always be very low.

Milling mainly happens in the kitchen of course. For whatever reason. Everyone standing, despite the empty chairs. Shyfighters always like to sit down. It avoids the awkwardness of standing; looking like you're waiting to be picked up for a chat. I always feel like I'm about two foot taller than everyone else. They're all looking at me. Wondering why I'm standing still and not joining in with the endless chat about money that's going on around me. 

For some reason, as soon as I sit down, I feel better. I cool down. The prickly heat ebbs away. Hopefully no one sits next to you for a pity chat. That's the issue with sitting on your own. People feel sorry for you and come over for a chat. Knowing it's a pity chat just makes your skin itch again. Your confidence gets a beating once more. A charity case, when you are not. It really doesn't help, because I for one like sitting on my own, people watching. But you can't be rude to them when they're just trying to be nice.

In one of the 6 weddings I attended, I was the official videographer. Unofficially official anyway. They had no one else doing video. It helped me immensely, being able to hide behind the camera. Unfortunately I could still be seen behind it, but I always either had my face half covered, or I was looking down at the screen, reviewing footage. I was able to stand in one spot and not feel awkward, because I was doing something. 

Someone who doesn't experience any shyness at all can stand perfectly still, with people walking around them, a completely impassive look on their face. But because they don't feel shy, they actually look relaxed and in control. I, on the other hand, would worry about looking awkward and so would take on the physical appearance of a shifty Stan Laurel. The camera gave me a purpose. A reason for standing still on my own. As a ShyFighter, I feel the need to look like I have a purpose, if just hanging about on my own. 

I wish I could be one of those people who can make impassive standing look great. But I'm getting better at it all the time. I can force my self to calm down. To cool down. Hopefully it doesn't look as forced on the outside as it is on the inside!

It's immensely difficult turning around the opinions of those that only ever see you in party situations. They don't realise how much you're suffering and how it isn't the real you. But you can't just tell them that. You have to slowly introduce them to the real you, as you gradually overcome shyness with age and experience. 

1. Alone

You feel so alone when dealing with shyness. Everyone around you seems like an extrovert. You don’t see any truly shy people, because they’re invisible. Just like you. Hiding. Tucked away in corners. Trying to be inconspicuous. Unnoticeable. But feeling in themselves that they are lit up like a Christmas tree; drawing attention from everywhere. The heat..the glare from any lights hitting you like stage lights at the Old Vic. The centre of all attention, but alone. Totally alone.

We are always hearing people talk about how shy they were when younger. Especially celebrities. It’s become super duper trendy for people to say how shy and quiet they were when younger. Especially if they are seen as the opposite now. But in my experience, by far and away the majority of people don’t encounter crippling shyness at all. Casual shyness, as opposed to crippling shyness, is like the difference between being depressed and clinical depression. Few suffer from it, making that feeling of loneliness even stronger.

Everyone must surely experience shyness to some extent, in certain situations, but it’s more rare for it to be a big part of your life. So if you spend a period of your life hampered by severe shyness, as I was in my teens and early twenties, you most certainly feel alone. Alone and weird. Though as an adult, you learn to appreciate that 'weirdness'. The World would be a great place if everyone was just a little bit weird.

The feeling of loneliness that a shy person can get is a strange one, because, whilst feeling isolated and alone; on the outside looking in; ignored, uninteresting and unnoticed. Despite that, you also feel the opposite sensation; that everyone is looking at you. Staring at you. fascinated by you. Staring at you and not noticing you at the same time. Noticing every step you take, whilst at the same time not seeing you at all. It's an odd contradictory sensation that greets everyone who experiences heavy duty shyness. 

It’s the rest of the World and you. Although of course it isn’t. I make a point of telling myself what a wise old wizard once told me; that you yourself are the only person aware of your own inner doubts and insecurities. As you can’t read anyone else’s mind, you assume that the cool, calm exteriors of all those people that you see around you are mirrored by their internal situation. But we all have insecurities. Someone else looking at you would think that you were cool and calm inside, whilst they internally fight their own demons, unable to see anyone else’s inner strife. Even super cool movie celebs! You would be part of the crowd for them. Not a lone figure sticking out, as you believe yourself to be. But it’s super hard to tell yourself that. To convince yourself of that at the time. Like having the hallucination of spiders crawling on you, but telling yourself that it’s not real. Very difficult. 

So though you may be somewhat alone with the high level of shyness you suffer from, as far as internal strife and insecurities are concerned, you/we are most definitely not alone.

Introduction

Hello..

I, like many people out there, have spent a lifetime being terrorised by the crippling condition commonly referred to as shyness.

Living with shyness feels like you're stumbling around your bedroom, trying to get an overly tight jumper over your head. Hampered and unable to see properly. Panicking at the thought that people can see you struggling. (A literal example of this will follow in a future chapter).

This written piece is an attempt by me, a middle aged husband and dad of two kids in single figures, to share my experiences of shyness and convey certain tactics that I have developed to deal with the dastardly condition. Experiences that can be both hilarious and terrifying at the same time. With me experiencing the terror and any perceived onlookers experiencing the hilarity.

I was mostly affected by shyness between the ages of 10 and 25. But there are still pockets of shyness that affect me greatly. like the melting of snow after a big fall. Some areas will be completely free of snow, but there will still be some deep pockets of the white stuff in shaded corners. I still have many shaded corners. The dreaded 'party' being one such pocket of snow!

I'll also address the unusual positive effects of shyness that I believe can be utilised. Getting any positivity out of a shyness episode can be tough. Like hanging onto the tail of an enraged bull. But it's possible, with some self training.

This is in no way a scientific approach to the shyness phenomena. No PHDs here. It's a personal account, that hopefully resonates with other shyfighters out there. The bare bones of experience, is what I'm revealing here.