Much More Than Shy  “I'm Jack. I have social anxiety disorder.
But I also have hope.”  by Jack Hagge    Anxiety-producing
scrutiny affects me physically. My heart sledgehammers. My voice
shakes. My hands tremble; for decades, my palsied fingers barely
managed to sign a check or credit card receipt while being
watched. My digestive apparatus stops cooperating, causing acute
discomfort, not to mention fear of vomiting or having diarrhea.
Sweat pours profusely from embarrassing body parts. Formal
performances produce more severe symptoms, with anticipatory
anxiety arising days in advance.  Some writers claim that the
concept of anxiety disorders has been "constructed" by
psychiatrists colluding with pharmaceutical companies. I beg to
differ. My disorder is only too real. And I began experiencing
its effects decades before drug manufacturers turned their
attention to improving them.  As I've already implied, anxiety
disorders can be crippling, leading to radically restricted
lives. For 13 years after I miraculous