Reason doesn’t have anything to do with it, I don’t think. I mean, we’re talking about desires and tolerance levels. It’s kind of like asking someone who’s lactose intolerant is it rational for them to eat an ice cream cone? If they’re willing to endure the bloating and diarrhea that will surely follow, then obviously it’s a rational decision for them. However, it’s also rational for someone who does not want to endure that pain to refrain from ice cream. There’s a trade-off involved for each person, and it doesn’t make sense to judge either individual as having made the “right” decision.
The question is, do you want ice cream, Lakai. If you want just a little lick, just to see what it tastes like, then there are plenty of ways to get one. First, you start off by turning workplace (or schoolmate) acquaintances into situational friends. If people gather together somewhere to study, join them. Try to eat lunch with others. Make small talk. If someone invites you to a party, accept. Let people in just a little. If you find yourself stressed out with each lick of the ice cream cone, examine the underlying reasons. Is it because of self-consciousness? Fear of ridicule or being rejected? Or is it because you’re tired of putting on the “act” and tolerating other people’s assholery?
I know I’m making it sound like it’s so simple to figure out the answer to your question, and I don’t mean to. But I don’t think it’s an impossible task. Examining the underlying reasons for my stress in dealing with people was how I came to realize that I wasn’t avoidant but that I was schizoid. I examined all the interpersonal interactions I’ve had in my life, starting off when I was a kid. Each and every time I pushed someone away, it was because I had grown tired of them.
Like, I had a friend when I was in grad school. She was a kind woman, a few years older than me, married to a doctor and not used to living in the big city. She was quiet and shy and insecure (her face was pretty, but it would have been gorgous if she hadn’t buried it under so much make-up). She was also brilliant, much smarter than any other graduate student, but didn’t seem to know it. That made her endearing. Anyway, somehow we became friends. She would invite me over to her house for lunch, and I would buy her presents for her little baby. She knew I liked trees, so we once spent the day at an arboretum. I can say she was one of the few people I’ve met in my life that never showed an “asshole” side. She had flaws, but I could tolerate them. For awhile, she generated very little stress in my life, so she seemed like a perfect friend for monstro.
But then she started calling me on the phone at night just to chat. Eventually I would just look at the caller ID and let the answering machine pick up.
And then she would want to come over to my place–which was a junky, stamp-sized one-bedroom apartment in a low-income highrise. Full of cat hair and roaches. (I had to lie and say that my cats were too mean for guests to come over :)).
Then her lunch invitations turned into dinner invitations with her and her husband.
She threw me a party when I did my defense. It was a lovely affair–she really went all out. But I was both touched and frightened. Was I obligated to do something for her in exchange? Did this mean we were BFFs, bonded forever? Would I have thrown her party if the roles had been reversed? I felt tremendous guilt because I knew the answer was no. STRESS!!!
So when I got a job and moved thousands of miles away, I never looked back. I didn’t keep in touch. I never sent her emails describing my adventures in the Everglades. I didn’t ask her about her baby, her research, or her rocky relationship with her husband. It was like she no longer existed. What a horrible, terrible person I was. 
If you haven’t had an experience like this, where you’ve given yourself a chance to have a relationship, then you owe it to yourself to test yourself and really see what’s going on. If you run away before the relationship even has a chance to develop, then I would wager that you are more avoidant than you think and perhaps you need to work on your self-confidence. If you are able to stick it out but end up deciding that, despite the other person being damn near perfect, it was more hassle than fun, then you can at least be satisfied knowing that you tried.
Being a lawyer, though, is not going to fill you up. Just like science doesn’t fill me up. If you don’t have something going on in your life besides the law, find something.