A message that still haunts me

A new chef moved his business to town at the same time as mine and a friend suggested I should introduce myself.

I am not a social being. I do not feel comfortable meeting people, being in crowds, or making small talk. Still, I went over to his place to welcome him. We briefly spoke, but he sent out food to me and may have comped my entire meal. I do not remember, but it would have been in character for him to do so.

He was a larger-than-life personality. Someone who could command a room with his presence and liked doing as much. He was a big guy, but somehow always had a ton of energy — think Chris Farley, but without the pratfalls. I could not wrap my mind around how these qualities could coexist, but I was genuinely impressed. I was also scared.

It is hard for me to be around people like that. My heart races, I feel anxious. I get uncomfortable if someone’s attention is taken from a current conversation and pointed in my direction. I am the kind of person who cannot linger at a table too long after the check is paid. While others enjoy conversation, all I think about is how much money the server may be losing by not being able to turn our table over. Even as I write this, my stomach feels queasy and my pulse is elevated.

Mind you, none of this is meant as a slight. We are just polar opposites.

He was a friend, someone who helped me out. He was in a much better situation than I was and seemed happy to do what he could. On a busy Saturday night, both bathrooms in my restaurant backed up. Since he had a corporate restaurant background, I thought he might know a plumber who is available on weekend nights. So, I reached out to him.

Almost instantaneously, he was in my restaurant fixing it himself. I froze. How could I let him do this, but how could I not let him do this? The problem needed an immediate solution, and he provided it. I was grateful, even if I did not express it well in the moment.

Everything was falling apart around me, and I was going down with it. My brain held me captive. So, I missed a lot of things that were right in front of my face, like acknowledging the magnitude of what he had just done.

I wish I had.

What follows is neither an indictment nor a judgment of character; it is a snapshot from a time when things were coming apart, and I still have not been able to put the pieces back together.

One day, I received a message accusing me of things I had not done. It included some deeply hurtful statements about ending my restaurant run and laughing as he drove by me.

I was confused and asked for clarification, but he already reached a point beyond reason. When momentum swings so hard in one direction, it can swing just as hard in the other.

To be clear, I do not believe he did anything. I really do not. Still it haunts me, like he was a creature possessed to deliver an ominous message.

I cannot think of him or see anything related to him or pass his businesses without feeling sick. I can count on one hand the number of times I have gone back downtown. A therapist and I worked on this, but I just do not have the mental constitution to bridge this gap.

Soon, my restaurant run did come to an end, and I was in a partial hospitalization program to protect me from myself. I tried to work through this there, but failed to do so. I am not sure I could properly convey the issue behind the story. It mostly resulted in horrified glances and comments about that person’s integrity.

That is not what I wanted. Those sessions judged the symptoms but never explored the problem. It has been three years, and I am still processing it.

I reached out to him before in hopes of making amends, but it does not seem like that is possible. Some problems do not have solutions, and I do not know if this one ever will.

What I do know is that it forced me to reflect, face hard truths, and commit to becoming a better person. It has been tough to travel down this road but, for the first time, it feels like I am finally arriving somewhere.

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