One of the biggest issues that makes my disease such a “disaster” is that it evokes intense pain and discomfort in situations that the vast majority of folks might find trivial to confront. Normally we’d say I’m “disabled” or have a “handicap” but unfortunately this isn’t recognized as such. One might question why I’m so quiet in a group of strangers; why I’m so reluctant to contribute verbally.

In truth, pain wells up in me in such situations. But that’s not the hardest part. As a reaction to the pain, my mind freezes like a creature that senses a predator nearby. The constant nagging and scolding by others who know me (“Why don’t you just speak up?”) is not a prescription for success. “Unfreezing” the frightened animal is only possible when you go away and leave it alone for the time being.

Thus a mental handicap is born. I’ve had this problem all my life and don’t believe it’s going away, no matter how old and experienced I become. Another fact about this issue is that, while it’s possible for me to effectively cope (i.e., “open up” to some extent in groups) when the situation is of limited duration like an hour or two, my problem becomes worse if I have to spend more than a day with a group of strangers.

Such was the situation I recently endured. I indeed brought it on myself - it was my wish for us as a family to visit a yoga retreat. I’d been on such a retreat a few years before and thought the experience was positive in terms of not only becoming relaxed, but meeting others. My wife and daughter also liked the idea. I decided to understand it as a learning experience and went mainly to register my own reactions and feelings.

Seeking and finding

By way of introduction I should mention my “secular” beliefs toward the whole yoga/new age theme. I never pursued esoteric movement in the hope of achieving nirvana on earth. My frame of mind is more varied and I try to see benefits in all religions and movements. In my view, Buddhism and yoga have a big plus in today’s world as they seem to help us cope with existential questions and never-ending stress.

That all being said, today I definitely see the therapeutic benefits of it, especially for someone like me who has (for various reasons) lost touch with himself and is unable to function effectively in life.

In contrast to the retreat from a few years ago, this was far more of a challenge socially. For one thing, all the other participants were young and single. For another, the hotel facilities were very modest (e.g., communal bathrooms), giving more of a dormitory experience. This contrasts with the relative luxury of the hotel we stayed in during the last retreat. Regarding the other participants, if I had gone there to “connect” with people, it was definitely harder to find something in common with a person without so much life experience and who has far different priorities than me. I had of course envisioned an experience like the last, so all this was surprise.

Of course we knew the hosts of the retreat and I more often talked to the husband of the yoga teacher, who is my age. I have to say he’s quite open as a person and was willing to listen to me, a fact for which I was grateful. To the others, however, I didn’t quite know what to say. While most of the group comprised German and East European females, there were two males there (both of whom I would have guessed to be around 30 or under), who often made funny statements and seemed socially uninhibited. You couldn’t find a greater contrast to me in this; I was older and definitely quiet and unassuming.

Writing this brings me closer to my own, old wound: comparing my own sorry state and appearance with younger, more interesting people. I have to admit that compared with them, I don’t “have it together” (i.e., currently searching for work and and trying to support a family). But, I know that had I been their age, I would have felt the same as now: useless and unappealing. This is the crux of my problem. In groups I don’t appear smart and brilliant, but dumb and slow. In fact, I hate such situations, and the characteristics of this particular group exacerbated my stuggles.

Closing off

During our free time, my wife sallied forth bravely to the communal rooms to make contact with people while I stayed in the room. Yoga has always been a demanding exercise for me and though I slept tolerably well at the hotel, fatigue was still a factor. But on the other hand, my wife has a habit of abandoning me when we’re with strangers to go off to do something or to talk with someone, leaving me to dangle and fend for myself. I have no idea why she does this (could it that in South America this is standard behavior?), especially knowing my condition, but if our weaknesses were reversed, I would never do it to her.

Knowing this would happen was a further reason why I stayed in the room (with my daughter, who was bored with a bunch of older people). I have to say, I am ashamed of myself and who I am. Imagining the common question about my profession, I didn’t even know what I would say. What I do sounds incredibly boring and seldom evokes interest in conversations with strangers. On top of that I’m jobless and growing more desperate by the month. If anything, the other participants seemed like a smart and determined lot, which was intimidating.

My standard behavior in such intensely uncomfortable situations is to not make eye contact but to only focus on what I’m doing or with whom I’m talking. I imagine this behavior puts some people off, which is kind of what I want. A major issue though is that I cannot think of anything to say when meeting strangers. For instance, a woman on the next yoga mat seemed reluctant to make eye contact as well but talked freely with my wife and daughter. When I made a remark to her at an opportune moment, she seemed reluctant to engage in conversation.

Others didn’t seem to have such reluctance but I’m only throwing out the example. When thinking about how I would do better in such groups, I imagined a retreat for people with Avoidant or C-type personality disorders. There, my disorder wouldn’t be a badge of shame but a pass to a special club. I imagined myself smiling and spontaneously saying things to others with considerably less fear. This was just a fantasy in my head, but somehow shows my fear of lack of understanding from others. How would I react if I noticed, say, a person with some visible issue (like me)? Would I mock her somehow, or feel a sense of connectedness and even responsibility to be kind? Or both, since I would feel relaxed and accept any thought flowing into my consciousness?

What I learned

As such intense social situations cause me to grow numb and seemingly set me back in my progress of self-awareness, I must nevertheless come to grips with what the experience revealed.

My goal of getting to know a few people wasn’t reached. This is in contrast to the last retreat, where the group was less numerous, older, and seemingly more accessible. I therefore couldn’t escape my feeling of being different and unworthy. I guess that being more connected with someone eases my burden and pains generally, a benefit I did not get the chance to experience this time around.

Secondly, my fear of what others think about me is simply overwhelming and short circuits any attempt on my part to grow. As an example, we came late to the yoga room the first day and had to find spots. My wife and daughter took the easiest ones, while I was left choosing between one next to my wife or in front of her, by the door. The one by the door evidently had more space (but wasn’t ideal for its location), while the one on my wife’s side had too little space and I might have bumped the limbs of others. As the session was starting I had to make a quick decision, so chose the one by the door. The entire time I was obsessing on what people thought of me choosing not to be next to my wife (e.g., “Are he and his wife close? Does he want to avoid his wife?”). Later, another participant came and took that spot as it was the only one left, but the yoga teacher made her change to somewhere else because there was too little space.

This fear of others’ thoughts and conclusions about me is much more insidious than I can sometimes imagine. It takes over my entire worldview and behavior and, in the end, snatches my identity and muffles my suffering. This effect was much worse in previous years, but I caught my submerging identity once or twice during this weekend.

One terrible consequence of shutting down is there are no more opportunties to grow further. This seems paradoxical, as therapists typically encourage patients to experience tough situations, their worst fears, etc. This shudown therefore renders my condition hopeless. Yes, I came to this conclusion many, many years ago and have always foregone opportunties to enter into places where a shutdown could happen. In this case, on the last evening we had a 20-minute group meditation practice, which I had looked forward to but found utterly useless as I couldn’t even relax and concentrate on my breathing. My limbs grew numb and mouth constantly salivated in a ridiculous way so that I had to make gulping sounds every five minutes.

If my goal with such experiences is to put myself into situations where I feel pain, but thereby learn how to cope with the pain, then it’s definitely a mixed bag of results on account of the freezing up of my mind.