Wise Wildcat:
It was just a few regular-looking people. This makes me sound a complete klutz, but I would have been okay, I think, if I'd seen people go into the building one-by-one. It was seeing three or four people stop and chat to each other as they entered that I found intimidating. Like there was a group of people who clearly knew each other and looked confident and comfortable with each other (looking back now, that reads like a good advert for the group), and I would be intruding, and I would feel somehow forced into justifying my presence. I became conscious of how strange and ugly I am, how awkward, and how I would just bring everybody down. I knew people wouldn't be hostile, but I would somehow have to be introduced, or introduce myself, to the rest of the group, and then they'd all look at me, and smile at me, and .... it just felt like total overload even contemplating it. That's the best I can express how it felt, but it's not really a rational thing, it was a gut feeling, a rising tide of panic, and the knowledge that I could not, just could not, summon the will to walk through that door. Maybe next time, if they still want me. Still, an SA group must be used to that kind of behaviour, mustn't they?
I don't think I should point you at the webzine that put my poem up, as it's up there under my full name with my email address attached, which would probably violate the anonymity policy here. Might also count as promoting another website.
If you're interested at all, I bunged the poem in my blog. I've written a whole bunch of them, and I don't think this is one of my best, but it's the one the webzine editor liked, so I'll take the compliment and try to feel pleased with myself.
Thanks for the encouragement, everyone. I'll try and draw strength from it next time (gulp!)
you sure don't "seem" strange and was that you before you changed your avatar - that good looking redhead? 
Sarah, Health Educator 
