At base, we humans are social creatures and don’t really function well as islands cut off from everyone. I’ve seen and read countless films and books about people going insane when left in a cave.

As an avoidant, my existance is one of constant discomfort when having to go outside of the boundaries of my dwelling. This discomfort can vary from mild (for occasions when I’ve already been outside), to painful (usually during a late morning when I’ve not been out and am feeling relaxed). The discomfort arises when anticipating my future action of going out into the world of people. At home I have my family, but going out means meeting and interacting with strangers. Anticipating the kinds of unknowns to be confronted is anxiety provoking.

I’m in my mid-forties and have been doing this all my life and yet, as in some myth where the protaganist must get his liver eaten out by a vulture every morning, or must again do a senseless yet repetitively exerting task like roll a boulder up a hill, I face the same, renewed challenge every day of my life. It can wear me down to a nub but I still have to do it. If I were a multimillionaire and could choose when and on what terms I must go out, I would then lose my sense of touch with others through isolation, which also wouldn’t be good.

As I write these lines a new anxiety rises within me to drown out the discomfort, which I don’t consider good since I must somehow be able to feel the pain and humiliation to confront it.

The funny thing is, the actual reality of my going out and interacting with others, and the results of this and how people judge me, has little to do with my perceptions and discomfort. I am, and probably will always be, out of touch with my daily social interactions with people. Is it any wonder that avoidants can never really be successful in the business arena?