My Stupid Experiment with Isolation in College

So here's a tale that might seem a bit strange and maybe even a little sad. It started about two months ago when I decided to try this crazy experiment: isolation. Yeah, you heard me right. I was feeling overwhelmed by the constant social pressure and just wanted some time alone to figure out my life. So I went on this self-imposed isolation binge where I barely left my dorm room for days at a stretch, only venturing out for necessities like food and classes when absolutely necessary. It began with noble intentions, find myself, be true to me, but quickly turned into something more sinister. Before long, I was avoiding all social interaction, even the small talk between neighbors in the hallway. My room became my fortress of solitude. It seemed to solve everything at first; there were no more awkward silences or misunderstandings, no expectations to live up to. But after a while, it wasn't just solving problems anymore, it was creating new ones. I found myself getting anxious and paranoid over every little thing. A knock on my door could set me off into thinking someone was about to criticize something I had done or say something that would hurt me deeply. This wasn't healthy at all. I started missing out on group projects, club meetings, and parties. My grades slipped because while I wasn’t actively avoiding studying, the stress of it all became too much when surrounded by others who seemed so put together compared to my frazzled state. The isolation wasn’t fixing me; it was breaking me. Now here’s where things get a bit embarrassing. A couple weeks ago, my RA knocked on my door with this big smile and a flyer for some kind of campus festival coming up. She left after she saw I was in the room but had to return because I forgot to ask about the details. By the time she came back, I was so nervous that all I could manage were stuttered words about maybe going later, just not now. Since then, every little social interaction leaves me feeling like a complete mess. Even thinking about making friends or getting involved again feels daunting. This isolation wasn’t just an experiment; it’s become a prison of my own making and I’m struggling to find the key to unlock myself from it. So here’s my question: Is this something that just passes with time, or is there something more seriously wrong? Should I reach out for help or try to push through on my own? Am I being an asshole by avoiding everyone because of how anxious I feel when interacting socially?