The Lost Darn Tea-Time of the Soul.

Abstract

The Lost Darn Tea-Time of the Soul Nataliya Yaneva Bulgaria My name is Nataliya and I recently turned 32. I'm from Bulgaria. And I have social anxiety and high-functioning depression. [End Page 165] This is my story of how I experience both conditions and how I try to somehow manage them. Social phobia I've had since my early childhood. When I look back, there is no time in my life when I haven't felt deeply shy to the point that I get stupefied in some social situations. Shyness is what I thought it was back then, and I fervently hoped I would shrug it off one day when I got older, more mature. Living in a post-socialist country didn't make things better since information on, and understanding of, mental health is not something Eastern Europeans are particularly well known for. In fact, mental health is still quite wretchedly understood, and if you are visiting a psychiatrist in Bulgaria, that means there's no better explanation than you're a nutter. Yes, even the language most people use here is not flattering. I was never good at making friends. Throughout my school days, I've had two or three good friends but I could never manage more than one at a time. I never went out to parties or other social gatherings. All I could do is go out with my one friend and have a one-on-one conversation. Anything with more people perplexed me profoundly. In some ways, it still does, 17-odd years later. Actually, I don't remember much of my time at school, except that I feared every day like hell because it included random interactions with other students, teachers, and people on the bus. I felt best during holidays when I got to stay at home and shunned meeting people altogether. Since I mentioned home, I might as well share how my family relations used to be and still are to this day. I love my father deeply, and he taught me a lot, but he was never one for a personal problemrelated conversation. I remember sharing with him that I had trouble interacting with people, but he rather took it as something that will resolve itself and didn't deserve much thought—that I was just a bit shy. It's not that he didn't care, but as I mentioned, information on such topics was really scarce then. My mother, on the other side, is a typical example of an emotionally absent parent. Our relationship has always been cold at best. To this day, I cannot remember having a single meaningful conversation with her or having received a piece of wisdom I could use in life. I had terrible quarrels with her when I was living at home. She is the type of person that wouldn't even remotely understand if I was to share about my 'shyness,' let alone help me in some way, so I never did. I rarely ever keep in touch with my four still living grandparents, except for one of my grandmothers, who is also a deeply troubled and anxious person. I guess I took after her in a way. I couldn't say things didn't get a bit better with time. They did. I went to university, lived in another town, met my first boyfriend, who later became my fiancé. All this time, I continued having trouble connecting with people and realized it was something different from shyness that I had. It was something deeper and, to my mind, darker. I began digging for answers, and I found some. I started sharing my newfound secret with my fiancé slowly since I was very ashamed of it. But I needn't be—I only found understanding and even more love. That made me feel slightly better about myself, and I reached for help. I started visiting a psychotherapist. It only lasted for a few months since we had (still have) financial struggles. I'm glad for my sessions though, since I've learned some things about myself. Despite the fact that I have fought my social anxiety for most of...