– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young – - I really do like me a good roll

anx·i·e·ty A feeling of worry, nervousness or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. That’s the definition in the dictionary, but it doesn’t even begin to tell the picture. Anxiety comes in many different forms. It’s not always the boy throwing up backstage, because he doesn’t want to go out and give a speech in front of everyone. It’s not always the girl who worries what her friends think of her, if she doesn’t have the right clothes on. It’s about things a person who doesn’t have anxiety won’t even think about. For example, I have anxiety. Maybe some would notice it, maybe some wouldn’t. Regardless, I have it. Mine consists of not social situations so much, but about disappointing others in those social situations. One way, is worrying about parking spaces. Parking spaces? Yes, parking spaces. Before I go anywhere – something I’m covering for work, grocery shopping, a party – I fret about where I’m going to park. Of course, I love when I can find a space close to the entrance, but at the same time, I don’t love it. If I take this space close to the door, am I taking it from someone else? What if it’s someone who really has trouble walking and now has to park farther away? How can I live with that? Many times, I’ve parked close to where I need to be, then immediately pulled away and parked farther out, because of that worry churning inside me. Then, there’s food. If I’ve been invited to a party, a wedding, even a community event, I will not eat, unless I’ve paid for my food. Graduation parties, especially, make me a nervous wreck, as well-meaning people try to get me to eat. Oh, no, I just ate. I’m not hungry. I use a lot of excuses. So I’m not lying, I make sure to eat before I go. Well, take a plate home then.... That really causes me distress. How do I explain to people, that I can’t eat, because my anxiety makes me think that they’ll think that’s the only reason I came – for the food. I actually break out in a cold sweat, at the thought of it. Even when I have paid for my food, such as at a buffet at a party or event, I wait until everyone else has gotten their helpings or even second helpings. The result is, that, often, only dinner rolls are left and not in great quantity. I once paid $20 for my share of the dinner buffet, only to end up with two small rolls. A couple times, at work parties, I haven’t gotten a thing, because I let everyone go ahead of me. The one time, I decided everyone had gotten all they wanted and had been back for seconds, so, I hopped up from the table and started over to the buffet. One of the spouses of a co-worker beat me to the table, cut in front of me, for his fourth trip there and polished off the rest of the food, except for two small rolls. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except it was nighttime and I hadn’t eaten anything that day. If you can relate to anything I’ve said, come sit by me and we won’t eat together. If not, well, I hope you can at least try to make an allowance for us with this weird anxiety. Hand me a microphone and tell me I have to give an unrehearsed lecture to a stadium of a million people, which is livestreamed to the world, and I’ll light up, slap on my tiara and knock aside people in my wake, to go rock that assignment. But ask me to fill a plate at an anniversary dinner and I’ll turn into a trembling mess, who backs away furtively and has a lot of reasons not to eat that delicious looking prime rib, that’s so tender, you can cut it with a plastic spoon. Nope, who wants that? Good thing I like rolls.