As I wait anxiously in line to order my grande chai tea latte with two pumps of hazelnut, I meticulously calculate the approximate cost, "Okay, Taylor, this will be $4.25, plus $1.00 for each pump... That comes out to $5.25."

Theta Apple Pie sorority girl in front of me steps up to order, and I know my time is coming. The overworked barista finally yells "Next," and I step up to the plate. I notice one of the flaky, buttery croissants in the display case, and I make a naive, last minute decision to order one. The barista says my total is $7.95... Shit! I did not gather the proper amount of change.

I begin to fumble through my wallet, as the coins currently in my hand fall to the ground, hitting the tile floor with the speed of light. My naturally pink face transforms into a shade of a rather unflattering bright red. I apologize and try to pick up the change, but my sweat-soaked fingers prohibit me from properly grasping the coins.

I realize I only have $7.76, and the dark moment when you must pay a ridiculously minuscule amount with your card takes place. The what-should-have-been one-minute transaction has finally come to a close after an excruciating one minute and thirty-one seconds.

As I shamefully walk away, I cannot help but think what the barista or the people in line behind me thought. Why am I such an embarrassment? Why can't I properly carry out these seemingly uncomplicated tasks? Why am I not normal?

This is social anxiety. Whether you are in a room full of people at a party or simply raising your hand in class, this looming feeling never quite ceases to subside. It is a feeling where you are no longer in control, where nervousness and panic thrives, where sensibility and logic completely vanish. Although the above example may seem a tad humorous, the incessant fear of social encounters is not actually that comical at all. In fact, it can seriously limit your capability of being a functioning human being.

Almost every social occasion must be thoroughly thought over in your head. When you have built up enough mental and physical strength to attend a social gathering with your friends and actually look forward to a night out, it can be rather disheartening as your social anxiety kicks in right as you start the night. People always ask why you look like you are having a terrible time or why you cannot just dance and let go. You, too, wonder why you cannot just be free and why your best friend Susan, although terribly white, can twerk horrendously, yet effortlessly without a care in the world.

These awkward social endeavors make you overanalyze every facet of yourself. You begin to wonder why you cannot just function like a "normal" human being. People like to preach to you and say things like, "Stop worrying what others think of you," or the short yet sweet, "Just have fun, let go."

However, what people do not understand is that social anxiety is not something you can just shake off or wish away. No, social anxiety follows you, even when you don't want it to or think you are safe from it one day. You can wake up one morning feeling marvelous, but as soon as you step out into the real world, your anxiety says, "Nope, I'm still here. In fact, that girl walking by you who never even looked at you is analyzing the way you walk and why you decided to wear that hideous new shirt."

It is inexplicably frustrating that simply mustering the courage to say "here" when your teacher calls your name or that calling Pizza Hut to place an order can fill your body with such anxiety and fear. As many times as you rehearse a conversation in your head, it usually doesn't go as planned, and you seem to somehow mess things up.

It becomes exhausting having to strategically sneeze on demand or to pretend to be on an important phone call when you walk by someone you know -- because the terror of casual conversation does not allow you to simply wave hello. Even when you are given ice-cold, overpriced fries from your server at Red Robin, you just can't seem to build up the courage to politely ask for warm fries; the concept of complaining in exchange for better service is a foreign land you have no desire to enter.

Although those of us plagued with this debilitating phobia of people may laugh and relate to these embarrassing situations, the fact remains that social anxiety can be detrimental to our happiness and ability to live our lives candidly. There is no simple fix, but every new day is a chance to overcome.

Social anxiety may affect who we are, but it is important to remember that our anxiety is not who we are.

There are millions of people around the world who can relate, so next time you are in line at Starbucks, frantically gathering your change and building up the courage to talk to a strange human being at a register, just know you are not alone.