Getting this job was the culmination of eight years of really wanting to be a fitness trainer. And I was totally freaked out that it was happening.

I have social anxiety disorder (SAD), so the thought of working in a gym with hundreds of members coming and going each evening seemed like my worst nightmare. I tried to talk myself into believing that I would just be working with people one-on-one — no big deal. But I didn’t really understand how a commercial gym works.

On my first night, the Fitness Director gave me a stack of cards and told me to go out on the floor and get ten people to agree to a complimentary training session. I had to interrupt whatever they were doing, talk to these complete strangers, get them to agree to a workout they likely didn’t want, and get their name and phone number.

My heart stopped beating. I quit breathing. My stomach did somersaults. I may have turned colors. I was suddenly drenched in sweat, which was strange considering the powerful air conditioning system.

After two tries, I had to stop and go back to the office. There’s only so long a body can function without oxygen.

I was immediately reminded of all the high school dances, parties, and other social events that I survived with the aid of my good friend Jack Daniels. But I had quit drinking years ago. Many of my friends back then thought that I was an alcoholic, but I wasn’t. I was self-medicating an illness I had never even heard of and didn’t know I had.

Since that time, I had learned that a handful of Saint John’s wort could take the edge off my anxiety. I had learned that I can function one-on-one or in very small groups. And later I learned that meditation could help me control my breathing to reduce the anxiety. I also learned that if I play a role, or wear a mask, I could bluff my way through a situation.

That was the tactic I took in my first months at the gym, and the one I still employ when I walk through those doors.

In my previous job, when I had to work my first trade show as a marketing assistant, I learned that all I had to do was pretend to be “Joe Salesman” and I could actually talk to all these strange people and do my job. It was like acting, and it worked.

So when I go into the gym, I am “Bill the trainer.” I play a role. I leave myself and my life outside the door for the most part. My partner, Kira, used to wonder why I kept my work life and my personal life so separate, and in the past I simply said it was a personal choice to protect my privacy. As I write this, however, it has become clear that it’s another way to get outside myself so that I can be around so many people.

And of course, after more than two years, it’s a lot easier now. I know lots of people and they think they know me. I have enough clients that I can avoid being at the gym during “prime time,” from 5 to 8 pm. I’ve become very good at keeping the separation that allows me to wear my mask and get through my days.

But it is not healthy. I feel drained on longer days. And even though I love my clients, some days I dread assuming the role. It takes a lot of energy to repress the anxiety and summon my self-confidence.

I have recently made a decision that will force me to learn better coping mechanisms — healthier approaches to dealing with my anxiety. Kira and I are going to teach a workshop — on changing the way people relate to food — at the local community college after the beginning of the year. I don’t want to have to be there without being present.

It’s going to take some serious work for me to pull this off. I plan to start working with my therapist again about how to handle the anxiety in more healthy ways. I also want to explore more “on the spot” methods of controlling my breathing as another way of limiting the anxiety. I won’t let this disorder control my life.

For the first 20 or so years of my life, I was painfully shy–excruciatingly so. Hell, I peed my pants in class many, many times until early high school because I was too scared to ask permission to use the bathroom! I cried in class so often throughout grade school, middle school, and yes, even high school that I thought I’d never be socially “normal.”

I remember a particular time in grade school where I was sitting in the back row and the teacher didn’t hand enough handouts to the first person in the row so I didn’t get one. I was scared stiff and couldn’t do the simple task of raising my hand and asking for a handout. The teacher kept going with her lesson and I lost it and started crying and couldn’t answer anyone as to why, which only embarrassed me more, further entrenching my social anxiety.

At another time in grade school, I remember one day in class I found my voice and broke through my shyness while in a small group. I kept talking and talking and I was on fire! I didn’t want it to stop–it felt so good! So when the teacher called us all together again from our small groups, I kept going. I was on a roll! Until the teacher yelled at me and said “Stop it! You are disturbing the class!!” I didn’t say another word in school for years afterwards, and I developed the incredibly disempowering belief that when I talk–especially when I talk loudly and excitedly and full of passion and enthusiasm–I disturb others and make them angry at me.

I never dated, kissed, or even really talked to a woman I was attracted to until I was 18. And it didn’t stop then–until very recently (I’m almost 27) I’ve had severe paralyzing anxiety around approaching and talking to women that I find interesting or attractive.

For years I never had more than 1 or 2 close friends, and I was terrified of them ever meeting so I kept them far away from each other. I had one friend with whom I would sit in silence for long stretches, both of us terrified to speak. Eventually he would suggest that we go play video games or shoot some hoops and I would say “ok.” That was the extent of my social life for years and years.

I was absolutely terrified of parties, family gatherings, school events, performing musically (which my parents forced me to do from age 5 to age 18), and especially dancing–my family’s favorite event at weddings, and there were many family weddings in my childhood.

I have so many more stories I could tell you about the pain and suffering and trauma I’ve experienced from social anxiety, but I’m writing this to inspire you not to depress you! Besides, I’m sure you have your own stories of pain and humilation and embarrasment. The point is that none of these stories matter as far as your future is concerned. One of my favorite mantras comes from Tony Robbins and it is this: the past does not equal the future. In other words, what happened in your past doesn’t determine what your future is going to look like–you have a choice and you have response-ability!

You can overcome social anxiety. You can experience freedom from fear. You can develop real self-confidence and real self-esteem. You can change your false and disempowering beliefs. You can change your false and negative self-image. You can become confident, relaxed, and pleasantly social–even charismatic! I know you can because I have–and there is nothing particularly special about me. Lots of other people have overcome social anxiety, and you can and will as well.

It’s also important to be realistic about all this–I still work with subtle (and sometimes not so subtle!) versions of social anxiety. But for the most part, my life now is far freer from anxiety than I ever thought possible. In times of extreme stress, I sometimes revert to a paralyzed, anxious state. This happened to me recently and at the time it was very frightening. But I recovered rapidly and it didn’t spiral out of control like it used to.

I still use various tools to keep me on track, like to-do lists to help with procrastination, another form of anxiety. And my life certainly has its share of “problems”–but problems are a sign of life! Nowadays I have this “problem” of having so many friends that I sometimes have a challenging time keeping connected to all of them! And I have this “problem” that when I go out dancing (now one of my greatest joys in life) I attract all this attention because I’ve become so radiantly charismatic that I don’t know what to do with all the attention! Now if only I had some money problems like these….

So realize that you can change your life–dramatically and powerfully–and that you will also probably be working with some version of this pattern for life. But you can get to a place like me and many others where social anxiety is for the most part no longer a problem.

In my upcoming posts I will be writing about all sorts of techniques that have worked for me to overcome social anxiety: everything from “state management,” to reframing, to goal-setting, to EFT, to building your “action muscles.” Fire up your RSS reader and stay tuned!