The Number You Have Dialed Ain’t Me No More!!

By Malcolm Pannell | FaceThyFear.com

[Content Warning & Disclaimer]

This article contains references to substance abuse, suicidal thoughts, sexual assault, and traumatic experiences. If you are in crisis or need help, please contact a licensed mental health professional or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at . FaceThyFear is not a substitute for medical advice, therapy, or emergency services. We share stories to inspire, not diagnose.

I Made It Through the Winter

Not just the cold—but the silence, the sacrifice, the slow season.

My first winter in my own place almost broke me.

Every dollar I had went into that move.

Morning classes clipped my hours at work.

I was barely making it. But I didn’t fold. I adapted. I endured.

Me and my girl? We grew through it.

She met me in rehab—so she already knew what I was climbing out of.

We didn’t just survive together—we got solid.

That kind of love don’t fade.

And now? Summer’s on the horizon.

Night classes. Bigger vision. Sharper faith.

I can see my goals getting closer with every move I make.

I’ve been praying heavy lately. Not just for change—but for clarity.

Even when life gets murky, I stay grounded.

Because I’m God’s son.

And I will never give up.

I Don’t Chase Tables— I Build ’Em

I done got over the pain of being a real one.

I blocked your number—and don’t even remember it.

I used to carry wounds in silence just to keep peace.

Now I carry peace and let the silence speak for me.

If you ain’t putting your folks on, I don’t wanna be around you.

If your idea of success don’t feed the people who prayed for you, you’re starving on purpose.

I haven’t had to beg to be somewhere—or with someone—in a long time.

That version of me? He died in survival mode.

Now I walk with purpose.

If the door don’t open, it ain’t mine.

If the love ain’t mutual, I don’t want it.

I’d rather be alone in peace than surrounded in pieces.

One Last Line

I used to pray I wouldn’t wake up.

Turned my phone off. Sat in silence.

Questioned why I was even breathing.

Burned every bridge I could find—

not to spite others, but because I couldn’t stand myself.

One last line of coke.

One more quiet night where nobody noticed I was slipping.

But I woke up. Again and again.

Even after the night I took acid in the club and ended up lost in the streets.

I saw demons. I smelled sulfur.

I blacked out and woke up in a stranger’s house—his Johnson out.

About to do something I’d never come back from.

I ran.

Flagged down a car like my life depended on it—because it did.

But that ride turned out to be another trap.

He locked the doors. Tried to force something.

We fought.

We almost crashed.

I ran again.

That night should’ve killed me.

But it didn’t.

The War in My Head

I got some shit I’m not tryna relive.

Old habits that’ll kill me quick.

But what do you do when all you know is sabotage?

When peace feels like a setup?

When you start fights just to feel something familiar?

I’ve been learning how to sit in the stillness.

How to trust joy.

How to stop bracing for the worst every time life feels calm.

Healing ain’t just light—it’s grief.

It’s letting go of the pain that kept you company.

Iron Heart, Hollow Spirit

I was at war with myself.

Drugs. Booze. Nights behind the bar that bled into mornings I barely remembered.

Bartending was a blur.

In 2022, I was working at Iron Heart Canning as a technician.

Steel-toe boots. Loud machines. Canning craft beers and cocktails—

the same poison I was pouring down my own throat.

Yeah—I drank on the job.

Sipped between runs like it was routine.

Sometimes I showed up still high from the night before.

I’d load pallets, seal cans, print labels… while my liver was waving white flags.

My mind was screaming.

But I kept showing up like nothing was wrong.

That wasn’t work. That was quiet suicide.

The Light Returned

Now?

I like brighter colors.

I laugh and mean it.

I don’t feel despondent—I feel joy.

Not the fake kind. The kind that surprises you in the middle of a quiet afternoon.

I’ve built real connections. Ones that feel sacred—not dirty.

I have love in my life that doesn’t come with conditions or consequences.

I used to wake up yellow—liver failure.

I bled from the inside. I came close to losing it all.

But I’m still here.

I don’t know why God kept me alive.

But He did.

So I walk like I’m on borrowed time—with gratitude in my chest and fire in my steps.

What FaceThyFear Is

This is what FaceThyFear is about.

It’s not about filters or fake positivity.

It’s about the raw. The ugly. The almost didn’t make it.

It’s about saying the quiet parts out loud—so nobody else has to suffer in silence.

FTF is for the ones still battling.

Still relapsing.

Still praying for a reason to stay.

I’m not here acting healed.

I’m here showing the healing.

So you know it’s possible.

The Words That Carried Me

And I want to end with lyrics from one of the only artists that stayed with me through both addiction and recovery:

“My therapist made me promise before I end it all

That her phone would be the one I choose to call, cryin’, askin’

Is it really worth it?

What’s beneath the surface or behind the curtain?

Really don’t think I wanna take this any further

Made one last attempt to figure out my purpose

I called her phone, it said, ‘Not in service’”

“When life gets hard,

Keep on marchin’ on

Even if the finish line is far

Or you have to push the car,

Keep on marchin’ on.”

— “The Number You Have Dialed Is Not in Service” by $uicideboy$ (2021)

You Don’t Gotta Walk Alone

This is Malcolm.

This is FaceThyFear.

This is survival in motion.

Need support? Reach out.

• Email: facethyfear@gmail.com

• Instagram: @facethyfear

You don’t have to walk through hell alone.

We see you. We got you.

[Disclaimer – Read Before Sharing]

This is a personal testimony. All events described are real and based on the author’s lived experience. This story is not intended to glorify addiction or trauma—it’s meant to give hope, healing, and direction to those still stuck in darkness.

Please share responsibly. Respect the weight behind the words.

FaceThyFear™

Truth Over Trend. Healing Over Hiding.

© 2025 Malcolm Pannell. All Rights Reserved.

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