Im in college. I live with my parents. 
My dad invites his friends over. He didn’t tell me about it. They are in the living room. My bedroom is attached to the living room. I am in my bedroom, and I don’t want to leave, because it’s safe in here. I can’t leave my room, and I don’t know why. I have been hungry for two hours. I want to eat, but won’t leave my room. I am angry at myself. I don’t want to do anything. I can’t focus. All I can think is “I want to go home,” even though I am right in it. 

This strange habit of trading social discomfort for physical discomfort has been a mechanism I have leaned in since I was young. I continue to torment myself. My brain is fighting itself. 

I want to do something with my time, but half of my brain has solidified itself into an immovable barrier. My brain has cut the option of leaving my room out of the picture completely. I am afraid of being talked to. I don’t want to exit my safe space and be greeted by four vacant stares waiting for me to introduce myself. I have been stabbed by the arrival of guests, and I cannot escape the fear that my father will come in and twist the knife by saying: “come on out, there’s pizza in here.” 

Once this happens, I enter the minds of our guests. Why isn’t he coming out? What is he doing in there? Why is he so shy?

My world has become a ticking clock of social obligation. Destructively, I continue to imagine myself walking out of my room. It took me a while to leave my room. I’m not even making eye contact with people. Everyone is silent as I grab food and sit down, because of course I can’t take it back to my room. Why? Because they will think I am weird. Why would they think that? Why should I care if they think that? 

So much of my life has been wasted waiting for my problems to go away, because when they arrive, my brain turns into a cinder block and continues to wallow in misery wishing it would end. 

TLDR, I can’t break my habit of forcing myself to suffer over what essentially boils down to absolutely nothing.