It's time for another installment of "Dear Anxiety Brain, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!"
I went through a phase about two years ago where I was eating at Tropical Smoothie Cafe almost every morning for breakfast. It was delicious, affordable, and right on my way to work. I usually ordered the same thing, just with slightly different add-ins in my smoothie. Some days, you just need energizer MORE than you need protein or an immunity boost.
Our story opens on one such morning. An average morning, at the start of an average day. I went in, got my combo order (smoothie and a half sandwich) and asked for one of my usual smoothies, with one of my usual boosts. When I got back to my car and took a quick sip, I realized something was wrong. To this day I don't know if I accidentally ordered a bad combination, or if the server made it wrong, but I realized I had a choice: Go in and ask for another smoothie, or drive off and face my day with utter smoothie sadness and misery in my heart.
Here, the much more logical and sane part of my brain said, "Yes. Not a problem, we can do this. We don't even mind paying for a new one, we just want something delicious. It's inoffensive, completely manageable, and the brief discomfort will be over soon."
Aaaaaaand THEN MY ANXIETY TOOK THE WHEEL. I couldn't just go in and ask for a new smoothie, I was a REGULAR here! People KNEW me! They knew where I WORKED! I couldn't stomach the thought of being "that customer" who isn't satisfied and makes a fuss (even though, as Logic reminded me, I was completely willing to pay full price.)
So, INSTEAD, I did a completely normal thing. I marched back in with a smile on my face and said, "Hey! My friend Kayla saw that I checked in here on Facebook, and asked if I could grab HER a smoothie, too!" Harmless enough white lie, right?
Oh, you poor sweet child ... if only my anxiety were that simple ...
Instead of just acting like a N O R M A L H U M A N, I pretended to read an imaginary order off my phone while I told her what I -- ahem, Kayla, -- wanted. I faked like I was waiting for confirmation from this imaginary person on the other end of the phone. Man, say what you will about my anxiety, but it COMMITS to the bit! I even pretending to be getting a Venmo payment from her. From this person that didn't exist.
Finally, second smoothie in hand, I went back out to my car, free at last from the nightmare. I told my anxiety to sit down and shut up. Instead, my anxiety screamed at me, "YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY CHECK IN ON FACEBOOK WHAT IF THEY CHECK THEIR PAGE AND SEE THAT YOU DIDN'T ACTUALLY CHECK IN THEY WILL KNOW YOU LIIIIIIIIEEEEEED!"
"But ... they don't know my last name, how would they --- "
"THEY WILL KNOW JUST DO IT OMG."
I did it. Two years later and I'm still bathed in awkward shame about it. And then, to top it all off, I made sure I WAITED until I was down the road before I PUT THE STRAW IN MY NEW SMOOTHIE. Because, obviously, the were watching me out the store window and would see if I took "Kayla's" smoothie for myself.
I am grateful, in a way, that I have this bizarre panic override that allows me, on occasion, to fake my way through things that give me anxiety. It's right there on my personality shelf next to the jars of "Mom Friend Override," which I have in SPADES. But friends, I'm gonna be honest: I hope, at the end of this life as we know it, I find out that Tropical Smoothie Cafe is actually a secret spy organization. I hope they've been watching our every move, and that my smoothie subterfuge was totally justified.