Stealth Mode Activated
I’ve realized what type of a person I am at my core. My base type comes out when I’m belittled or disrespected.
I’m the type of person who just disappears when the going gets tough.
When the Bug Strikes
When I’ve got a bug that I just can’t solve I go into my shell. I’m thinking about how to solve the problem.
Maybe it’s a review where the feedback is so vague it might as well have been generated by a magic eight ball. I feel uncertain and don’t quite know what to do.
When this moment of uncertainty hits, my brain goes into flight mode.
For me, that looks like I disappear. Not physically, of course. I’m still at my desk, still logged into Slack, still occasionally moving my mouse just enough to prevent my status from going Away. But functionally? I’m gone. I stop responding. I stop engaging. I shrink into the background like a junior developer on their first day, hoping nobody notices I exist.
This is not a useful strategy. And yet, here we are. I know there are better ways to behave, but under stress, I move into the background.
The Disappearing Act in Action
Let’s break it down. My method for avoiding the unavoidable has been fine-tuned over the years of corporate survival. It goes something like this:
Slack Lurking
I read messages, but I don’t reply. Maybe if I wait long enough, someone else will answer the question directed at me. (A surprisingly effective tactic.)
The “Deep Work” Bluff
Headphones on. The screen filled with code. Not necessarily relevant code, but enough that I look occupied.
The Phantom Meeting Escape
“I’ll check on that and get back to you”. No timeline. No urgency. A vague promise that suggests I’m working on it while I panic in silence.
Code Review Camouflage
If I comment on enough PRs, nobody will notice that I haven’t committed anything of substance in a while.
Google Deep Dive
Maybe, just maybe, some Stack Overflow answer from 2013 holds the key to my salvation.
Why Do I Do This?
It’s not just laziness or fear. It’s something deeper. It’s a mix of impostor syndrome, perfectionism, and the sheer terror of being wrong. The software industry has an unspoken expectation that we’re all supposed to just know things. That we should be able to pick up a Jira ticket, glance at it, and immediately architect the perfect solution.
But reality doesn’t work that way. Sometimes, I just don’t have a clue. And instead of admitting that and asking for help, I hesitate. Because asking too many questions can make you look incompetent. And looking incompetent is the beginning of the end.
The Cost of My Vanishing Act
Here’s the problem. Avoidance doesn’t solve anything. The longer I put off admitting that I’m stuck, the worse it gets. The ticket festers. The bug remains and will cause the same anxiety tomorrow. The meeting where I was supposed to provide an update comes and goes, and I’m left scrambling to explain why nothing has moved forward.
And the worst part? The more I disappear, the more people start to expect me to be unreliable. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
How I’m Trying to Fix It
I wish I could say I’ve found the perfect solution. I think I need to tackle problems head-on and think about how I can actually behave in a better way. The thing is, it’s easier said than done.
So here is what I should be doing:
Admit Early When I’m Stuck
Instead of silently struggling, just say, “Hey, I need help with this.” Simple, yet terrifying. If somebody chooses to judge me for asking for help, that’s their lookout, not mine.
Set Time Limits for Avoidance
If I can’t make progress on something within 30 minutes, it’s time to stop pretending and ask someone for guidance. I’ll be able to move faster and be able to solve more problems over time.
Write Down My Confusion
Often, just articulating what I don’t understand helps clarify the issue. This is a version of rubber duck debugging.
Engage in Team Communication
The more I’m part of discussions, the harder it is for me to slip into the void unnoticed. Instead, I should communicate with my whole self, be seen (camera on), and be unafraid to say what I think and what I feel.
Fake Confidence Until It Becomes Real
Sometimes, just acting like I know what I’m doing is enough to push me through the mental block.
Conclusion
Disappearing at work is a bad habit. It makes problems worse, kills productivity, and chips away at my professional reputation. But breaking the habit isn’t easy. The fear of looking like an idiot is deeply ingrained.
So, if you’ve ever felt like vanishing when you don’t know the answer, you’re not alone. Just…try to reappear a little faster than I usually do. Your career will thank you.