Disease, disorder, condition . . . whatever it is, I am shy.

I threw the math book at the wall. I cried. It was the last time I would cry for 7 years. I gave into what I what I later knew was giving up. I stopped crying. It was probably the second day of my sophomore year of high school when this happened.

I remember the first day of high school I almost wet myself, almost vomited because I was so scared. I have no idea what I feared; I guess I feared everything. Of course, everyone is nervous the first day of school but my feelings of fear didn't fade.

Each day I was nervous. Each day I yearned to cry. Each day I sat quietly in class. I said nothing. I received lower grades in some classes because I couldn't meet the participation requirement; I was too scared to raise my hand.

I was the wall flower. At activities outside of school I always stood alone. No one passed the ball to me at soccer, no one would be my partner during warm ups.

I had no friends in high school. I sat at my own table, by myself, for two years. My last year at school was spent in the library. I was voted "shyest" my senior year. They put a picture of me in the yearbook. I was known as the "quiet, smart girl."

I was ashamed, embarrassed, sad, scared and lonely.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I be like everyone else?

I realize now know what was wrong with me; I was shy. Some wouldn't call it a disorder but I suffered; I suffered in silence.

I did some research on shyness. The definition is a, "Chronic and longstanding fear of negative evaluation and tendency to avoid interpersonal situations without a guarantee of acceptance and support, accompanied by significant fears of embarrassment and shame in social interaction.

And it seems that this "condition" is quite significant because the site continues to say the percentage, "of adults in the United States reporting that they are chronically shy, such that it presents a problem in their lives, had been reported at 40%, plus or minus 3%, since the early 1970's."

And it was a problem for me. In elementary school I used to swing alone. On the bus, no one would talk to me. My classmates picked on me for my shyness and so the silence remained. I was so engrossed in what people would think, in myself, that I wouldn't speak, I wouldn't act.

I missed a lot of opportunities. I learned so little. I was always afraid to ask questions, ask for help. I was afraid to use my voice. I remember I wanted to be a singer but you have to talk first to sing and I wouldn't talk.

I knew I had a problem. Its funny, people ask why I chose communication as my major. Some people would say its an easy major. Communication was the hardest major for me. I knew it would be. I chose it because I wanted to do what I thought I could never do.

But I think my shyness became worse with time instead of better during my first year of college. I spent most of it in my dorm room. I didn't want to but I was too afraid to go anywhere else. I sat in my room for two semester and I wrote, I daydreamed, I called my Mom, I let my roommate degrade and demean me. My moments of happiness at that time were when I would sneak away to play piano or when I was in my psychology class learning about the human mind.

I began to think my problem was a lack of motivation but that wasn't it. I yearned to work, I yearned to fall in love, I yearned for friends but I was afraid.

There are other tales of people who have been crippled by their shyness too. One woman, Helen Rivas-Rose wrote a book on how shyness affected her and how she eventually sought help, "she recalls how shyness affected every major choice she made in life, and how it made her feel ashamed, and alone."

Of course many people confuse shyness with introversion but I am not an introvert at heart. I love being around people, I love doing group activities when I don't let my shyness control me.

And shyness wasn't really considered a medical condition until the 1990's and it was defined as a "social phobia." There are medications, therapy that can be sought for this so called disorder; and maybe its necessary for some extreme cases.

Susan Cann, a writer for the New York Times says there are cases of people who won't leave their apartment to go to a job interview, a date or even a meal.

I believe there were instances where I could've become that extreme. If I weren't so aware of how negatively my shyness affected me. There were days I didn't want to get out of bed because I feared the social sphere outside my house. But because I am so strongly aware of this disorder and I find ways to overcome it.

But I was lucky. Life dragged the silence from me. I was poor. I couldn't continue going through college without a job. And so, my sophomore year I acquired a job. I also acquired friends. Of course, I didn't immediately change. There are still days that I have to truly work at it.

My mother always said it was low self-esteem, and I agree that was part of my problem but my main problem was an irrational fear of social situations. I was literally scared of what others thoughts were toward me.

And my mother did exactly what she should do. She gave me opportunities, she gave me encouragement, she pushed me, she had faith in me. There were times where my fear confused her, angered her but she never criticized me for it. Instead, she constantly gave me opportunities to battle it.

I think she internally knew that this was something I had to overcome on my own. She knew she couldn't hold my hand but she also knew she couldn't abandon me either. She simply believed in me.

It's been a few years since my freshman year of college. I've grown enormously. People who knew me before are shocked by the change. I graduated from college, I acquired a boyfriend. I have a job. I am going to BYU for my masters. I live on my own in Utah and I almost never lonely, never alone. I live the realistic dream that once seemed so unreachable.

I still struggle to be the extrovert I want to be. I have my regrets. Sometimes I wish I could've understood my problem sooner, I wish I could've done so many things differently. But maybe this was my purpose. Maybe I was supposed to learn from this disorder that once crippled me.

There are books that spew out loads of ideas on how to overcome shyness but I believe there is a very simple cure for shyness: DO all those things you dream of doing; DO all those realistic dreams you spin within your head; DO instead of think, push yourself.

Its almost like the "Yes Man;" I say yes to things I am scared to do but know I would love to do.

I said in the beginning that I didn't cry for years. I thought I was holding strong by being quiet, by appearing emotionless on the outside while suffering inside. I cry now and I feel stronger for it. I show people how I feel, I tell people how I feel and I do what I feel.