Phobia, Not a Phobia
Everyone knows I hate talking on the phone
I have a telephone phobia.
That isn’t remotely true, but I tell people I do. I do have A LOT of anxiety around talking on the phone. It has developed over the years. It isn’t right to call it a phobia, though. It makes me crazy when my kids say that they have phobias. Phobias are more serious than anything anyone in my family has. Anxiety, we understand all too well. But, the only person I know that has ever truly had a phobia is my mother. She had a fear of heights and it interfered with her life — like she wasn’t able to enjoy our trip to the Grand Canyon when I was little.
This is the best story I have to show the differences between my mom and dad. Opposites attract and all. We went to the Grand Canyon when I was around three or four years old. I remember next to nothing about the trip. There are three images that seem cemented in my mind. I remember seeing a piece of petrified wood. I remember seeing the Painted Desert from the seat of a stroller. And, I remember standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon.
My dad picked up a rock and walked to the railing. We had pulled off and parked nearby. We were definitely on the beaten path. Once at the railing, he leaned over a bit,
“Listen, kids. See how long it takes for it to hit bottom.”
And, he tossed the rock over the edge. My brother and sister leaned over the railing to watch it fall and listen for the landing. I tried to get to the edge too, but something was holding me back. Mom was standing by the car way away from Dad, in the safe parking lot, holding onto my arm. She kept saying,
“Honey, please don’t let them get so close to the edge.”
I wriggled away from her grasp and joined the others leaning over the railing. Dad dropped a second rock. Mom just called out,
“Honey, keep them away from the edge. Honey, don’t let them do that!”
She was too afraid to come and take us away from the edge, though. This is a real phobia.
For years now I’ve been telling people how much I hate to talk on the telephone. My father didn’t like it either. There is only one person that I know he would sit and talk to for a long time over the telephone. On Sunday mornings, he or his best friend would call from their respective homes or church buildings. Each of them was a pastor. Each of them would be preaching a couple of hours later. And, they checked in every week before going into worship. They shared everything. And, they did that primarily over the phone.
But, if I called Dad, he and I would catch up real quick then he would say, “Well, here is your mom.”
He always told us,
“It doesn’t take me long to say hello.”
Once again, I find myself clinging to an idea that if I do something like my dad then I’m somehow closer to my dad. I’ve taken it too far, though. I’ve called it a phobia. I’ve made people believe I can be paralyzed by the telephone.
Two times just this week people have apologized to me for CALLING ME! One was a church member who had experienced a bad fall. She actually apologized to me for calling instead of texting. I felt like shit. I mean, utter and total shit. I assured her that she definitely did the right thing in calling me and that I was glad to hear her voice and know she was okay.
The other was a Dear Friend who was texting with me about a trip that is coming up. She ended up calling and before she talked to me about what she needed to talk to me about, she apologized saying,
“I know you hate talking on the phone. It was just easier to call.”
Felt like shit again!
On the one hand, I’ve made my feelings, desires, and preferences known to others. That can be a good thing. On the other hand, are you freakin’ kidding me? Friends should not feel like they have to apologize just for calling me. A friend should be able to call a friend without this silliness.
Having said that, I’m not promising I will answer the phone if someone calls in the next five minutes — or in a week. I usually tell people that if they really need to speak with me to send me a text telling me a good time to call them back. This is not because I’m so busy that this is how I have to manage my business. This is because I have to work up the nerve to call. Working up that nerve is less anxiety-filled if I know why the person is calling me and when the conversation is going to take place.
I never claimed to be sane.
I’m sane-ish.
And, I’ll be happy to chat with you about it —
over text or email.
