I'm afraid of forums. No, more specifically, I'm afraid of interacting with people, and I'm so afraid that it affects me when I'm miles away from people who can't even see me, have never met me, and who probably never will.
It's stupid, I know. It's irrational—I admit it. And here I've been all this time, claiming to be a rational person.
I obsess over the structure of my forum posts. They must flow beautifully, from beginning to end. They must have the appropriate effect, but without exaggeration. I have to apologize for posts that could be too long for some people and could therefore offend them or give them the impression that I believe I'm superior. Sometimes I save my post as a draft on my computer so I can sleep on it and read it again with fresh eyes the next day. If I haven't changed my mind by the morning, I'll at least make some improvements, thankful that I never posted the horrid thing the day before. Finally, when I've completed my "masterpiece", previewed it enough to make me sick, and stared a sufficiently long time at the "submit" button, I hold my breathe and publish it.
I walk away and immediately I feel regret. I feel like an idiot. I think I should have never posted it. Maybe I should have never joined the forum in the first place. I wonder what people think of me. I could have been too direct or too harsh. I could have sounded whiny. Did I stray from the original topic? It must have been too long. Maybe I should edit it. Maybe I should delete it—no, that would look bad. Wait—I can't remember what I posted. Did I post the right version? Did I really say that or did I just think of it? I go back and look.
If nobody responds within a day, fear sets in. I feel like an idiot, but they KNOW I'm an idiot. My reputation is ruined.
If it's a private message, it's not fear that sets in—it's paranoia. If I see they've read my message, there must be a reason for them not responding. I must have offended them. They must be angry. Or maybe I depressed them to the point of suicide. In that case, they're lying somewhere, dead, miles away, and I'm their long-distant murderer. Guilt. Worry. Panic. Sickness.
When were they last online? What was their mood in their last post?
Maybe they just don't like me. Maybe I've made a fool of myself. Maybe they're purposely ignoring me. Maybe they're don't have time to respond to me because they're too busy telling their friends about the idiot they met online.
Maybe I should delete my account. Maybe I should never talk to anyone—EVER.