When I was really struggling to get out the door because doing that meant I would panic within minutes of leaving home, I became an expert at finding what I thought were really clever and creative ways to run my businesses while basically staying in my house.
I thought they were clever and creative, but they were not. Rationalization is a powerful thing, especially when driven by fear. I thought I had it all under control and that things were working just fine while I was stuck in the house. I was - clearly - wrong. The business was not doing well. Anyone that has ever owned a business knows that if you’re not growing you’re dying because even in the magical world of datacenters and hosting where revenue is recurring, no client or customer is forever. You have to grow your business at least to a level where you’re not shrinking when customers leave for whatever reason.
I was not growing my business because I didn’t want to go to meetings, or even talk on the phone in those days. I was almost actively shrinking the business because as much as I was fooling myself into thinking that we were “virtual and remote”, was not getting any face to face time with my local clients and and I was avoiding actual conversations with clients from elsewhere. That’s no way to maintain relationships in business.
Anyway, this is not a post about how to run a business at all. This is a post about being called out on my avoidance and my retreat.
I was - in 2008 - the king of email and texting. I could “handle” that. Mind you, in 2008 if I wanted to text you and my message contained the letter S, I had to press the 7 button on my phone four times to get that letter. Talking was absolutely a better way back then. But talking was off limits. At one point a local contractor I had a relationship with landed a structured cabling job not too far away (maybe 15 minutes) and needed someone to help with the actual network design and architecture for the project. I’m good (or was good) at that so he reached out.
I was so difficult to work with because of all my restrictions. I wanted the project because it would have been profitable but I also wanted to keep all my avoidances and escape rituals intact. Typical anxiety “cake and eat it too” scenario. My contractor friend was getting frustrated with me because he couldn’t get me on the phone and couldn’t get me to go to the project location. After trying for a full week, he finally texted me and demanded that I call him back to work out details.
I had no choice. I called him. As usual I wanted to rush the conversation so I could hang up because being “trapped” on call was a recipe for high anxiety or panic. I was pacing around as I spoke to him. My voice was shaking and as the call dragged on I was getting a bit breathless. He could hear it and even asked if I was talking to him while working out or something like that. This is embarrassing but I told him I was just on the treadmill and ran upstairs to take the call. I was trying to cover everything up.
He insisted that if I was going to do this project with him we had to meet in three days at the location to do a walk through. Even in my state I knew this was a totally reasonable thing for him to ask and I knew I was in danger of blowing this gig, so I agreed. I was kicking the panic can down the road. Tell him I’ll be there, then figure it out that day. Maybe I’d go. Maybe I’d find an excuse to cancel at the last minute. I knew my fear and my fear habits. But at least agreeing to the meeting got me out of that call and off the hook for the moment - which was all I cared about back then. Escaping from one moment to the next.
Just as we were about to hang up, my contractor friend said, “Hey, I appreciate you taking the call and coming out Wednesday.” That was nice, right. Except that’s not how he ended. He said something else.
“I know you don’t like to leave the house.”
Even writing this now triggers a reaction in me. Embarrassment. A sense of failure and failing. I can own my traits - even the ridiculous ones. I accept that in some ways I am a walking stereotype. Big voice. Beard. Broad shoulders. Confident manner. Hell, I even have a damn wolf tattooed on my left forearm. We are who we are. What can I say. This is who I am.
But in that moment … I was NONE of who I am. I was broken, defeated, and afraid, and it was out there in the bright sunlight where everyone could see it. This is difficult for anyone. It was REALLY difficult for me. I’m OK telling you that wolf tattoo and bravado aside, I am not planning on jumping out of an aircraft any time soon. I’m OK with that fear. But being afraid to leave my house and go 15 minutes away to tend to my business and earn money? That’s not an acceptable thing to be afraid of and there it was, laid bare in front of me.
“I know you don’t like to leave the house.”
That short sentence spoken on a Friday in 2008 has left a mark on me that persists to this day and will likely never fade. That’s OK. We carry what we carry and we use it how we use it.
That feeling, which I will never forget, helped to fill the fuel tank of my recovery, but that’s a story for another day.
Thank you for listening.
“I had a romance novel inside me, but I paid three sailors to beat it out of me with steel pipes.” ― Patton Oswalt
Every Friday I’ll share one of my favorite quotes. They’ll often have direct application in recovery, but sometimes they’re just generally funny, inspiring, or thought-provoking. I hope you enjoy them.
222. "I Know You Don't Like To Leave The House"