Confession: I'm Afraid of Professors

I think I may have hinted about certain social anxieties I have, but I don't know if I've ever gone into full detail.  Prepare yourself for self-doubt, deprecation, and over-thinking overdrive.*

I have a problem that I can best characterize as social anxiety, but that is not really it.  I love people, I have a nice group of friends, I am not socially awkward, and I think I am pretty likable.  But I have this weird thing with authority in that I never rebelled against it and now have way too much reverence for it.  For instance, even though I am entering the later half of my Ph.D. career, I am still deathly afraid of professors.  While other Ph.D. students call professors by their first names, socialize with them, and write little witticisms on their Facebook pages, I still get sick to my stomach when composing an email or get tongue-tied when I have to talk to them one-on-one.**  Not good.

As you may recall, starting next semester I will begin an assistantship at my university.  A couple of weeks ago, I went down to campus to take care of a few business matters and had to use the copy machine that is located in a locked room where many of the faculty have their mailboxes.  I was sweating bullets the entire time.  Why, you might ask, would this seemingly harmless activity cause my anxiety to rise through the roof?  Well, as soon as I put the first paper (which was not my own, but owned by the department) through the copier, the machine jammed and I was having a very hard time fixing the problem.  I started thinking that faculty would come in to get their mail and see this girl there who was taking apart their copy machine like a nut, and would immediately be suspicious, make a snide remark, and report me (yeah, report me).  This, of course, makes no sense, but at that moment I was really frightened of something like that happening.  I would have destroy all evidence of ever being in that room, escape down the halls and through the back stairwell, but they would all remember me as the person who broke the machine and when I returned to work there in August, I wouldn't be allowed access.  Again, ridiculous. 

Needless to say, everything went fine.  I fixed the machine, made my copies, and went home. 

Later, I was talking to my mom about this move to the university from the community college and she asked if I was nervous.  "Not about teaching," I said.  "Then what?" she asked.  Well, I'm nervous about:
Where will my office be?  Will it be with the other new GTAs or the old ones who have already formed a clique and I will be all alone and have no idea what is going on?
Where will my mailbox be? 
Will the other GTAs treat me like shit because I am further along in the program but just now getting this assistantship?
Will I have to hobnob with faculty?  Dear god, no.
Basically, where do I go, how do I get there, and what do I do?

My mom started cracking up.  "I can't believe you are still like this!  The first day of elementary school you were most nervous about how to use the lunch line."
Well, yeah, that shit is scary.

Anyways, all this came back into my head because I just made myself sick to my stomach by thinking about writing an email to my advisor.  Thinking, people, not even writing yet.  I'm supposed to be getting together the texts for my Qualifying Exams, but I have been taking a really looong time doing this and now I'm afraid that my advisor is going to be pissed and annoyed.  In addition to that, I've decided that I want to do my exams/dissertation on a topic that includes two subtopics that I actually haven't ever taken a class on and know little, if anything, about.  That may sound weird so just go with me that it actually makes sense.  Anyways, I am not aware of the key secondary texts on these subtopics.  I've been searching, but I really think I should get an email out to my advisor to let him/her know that I am alive, working on this, and hey, can you point me in the right direction.  Cue the instant stomach pains and hand shaking.

*This might be a family problem as my dear cousin suffers from the exact same thing.  My favorite story of hers is when she went to high-five a coworker who was actually giving her a thumbs up.  She ended up enveloping his thumb with her hand.  Instead of laughing this off and forgetting about it like a normal person would do, she thought about it for months. 

**An example that happened two years ago that I still cringe over: I was in a shared common room of two professors looking for a paper.  In walks Super Respected Important Prof who sees me digging like some squirrel at his bookshelves.  He asks me what I'm doing and I tell him that I'm looking for a paper for Prof. X's class, but it seems that he forgot to put them out.  Super Respected Important Prof points to this GIANT sign that says "Prof. X Papers" that is right over my head.  I blush and say something jumbled like, "Oh, it is so cold outside that I can't even see!"  Does that make any sense?  No, no it does not.  Super Respected Important Prof stares at me for a second and then walks into his office.  Humiliation ensues.