Hang Up

Hello, my name is Julie, and I’m afraid of the telephone.

Not that the receiver is going to rear up and bludgeon me or anything. I just hate making phone calls, being on the phone, anything having to do with a phone at all.

Swistle coined the term Phonebia. That’s me in a nutshell.

I was the only teenage girl ever not to commandeer the house phone for random gabfests about nothing in particular. I am also the only person on earth who has a cell phone but doesn’t actually use it, except in an immediate need kind of way. I rarely remember to turn it on.

The primary manifestation of my phobia is that I’ll procrastinate any phone call I have to make. I hate hate hate hate hate dealing with business on the telephone. I feel like I’m bothering these people, these people whose jobs are to deal with people like me (I never said this was sane), that I can’t make my case effectively enough, that I’ll get rejected before I even dial a digit. That’s, right, I’m worried about juddgement from my customer service representative. I always, always think that my phone calls will end with me losing out. I am genuinely surprised when things occasionally work out in my favor. I haven’t even picked up the phone and I can feel my heartbeat start to increase, maybe even a little perspiration form on my upper lip, and the majority of my muscles tense up. It’s ridiculous.

I’m not even all that thrilled about talking to my friends on the phone. Sure, I’m glad to hear from them, but I worry the entire length of the call. Am I boring her? Is it too early to end the call if I have to go, and am I insulting them by choosing to do something else other than talk? Have I gone on too long and she can’t wait to get away from the sound of my voice? Do I sound like an idiot (I can’t see your face to tell!)? Have I called at an inopportune time? I am so sorry I’ve interrupted whatever you were doing, even if it was just blinking. This is my anxiety. It’s not that I don’t love you, but I’m seriously stressing out.

I can handle talking to my mom, but she has to deal with me by virtue of our genetics.

Caller ID, which I have only had since moving into this house, has been both a blessing and a curse. It’s nice to know who is calling or what the subject of the call might be before saying hello. However, I’m not so good at screening (it’s like they KNOW), and when I see the number, I immediately begin to work up scenarios of what specific bad news the caller is going to rain down on me.

Do I need to mention I’m not exactly little Mary Sunshine?

Suffice it to say, I’d so much rather use any form of communication – preferably computer based – to talk to someone. Hey, I’d even prefer a face to face conversation over that blasted Bell invention.

My father is the exact opposite. He doesn’t mind making phone calls, and his first reaction to fix a problem is to pick up the phone. We’ll be discussing something going on in my life, and he’ll simply toss out, “Just call so and so, and…” It’s perfectly reasonable to him, but I’ve just gotten hives before he finishes the thought. No, I cannot just call so and so. I cannot just call anyone.

I have a list of phone calls I need to make. I’ve been trying to talk myself into making 2 – just 2 – every day, starting yesterday. I did make both calls. One was to schedule a meeting, for which I promptly double-booked myself and had to call back (still waiting for a return call to reschedule, ugh), and the other was an insurance call, and I’ll bet most of you just groaned. It was long and involved, and you guess it, turned out badly. Really makes me want to pick up that phone again today. No, I haven’t done it yet, and now that both kids are home, it’s unlikely I will get them done.

What I need is a secretary. Wait, I’m sorry, telecommunications assistant.

UPDATE: I did it! I made the 2 phone calls. Admittedly, I switched out 1 call for another on my list, and today's insurance call was also unsatisfactory, but still. And I get extra points for doing it with an almost 2 year old trying to talk to Grandma (for her, it's always Grandma on the phone - unless it's Barney).