FIELD REPORT: The High-Voltage Imposter (Root Cause Analysis)
The Costume
- Hotel Storm Duty 2019
There’s a saying in the trade: "Even firefighters need heroes." We cut the power so they can go in. We are the first ones on the scene when the storm hits. For years, that was my armor.
Putting on the Hydro One gear—the flame-retardant orange and blue, the hard hat, the heavy boots—didn't just protect me from arc flash. It protected me from myself. When I strapped that gear on, I wasn't Cole Smith, the insecure kid from a broken home. I was a Lineman. I drove the big yellow trucks. I flew the buckets.
But it was a costume. And underneath the fire-retardant suit, I was already burning.
The Dedicated Observer
On the job site, the reality didn't match the swagger. When the crew was doing the "hero work"—live-line splicing, complex switching—I wasn't raising my hand.
I gravitated toward the clipboard. I volunteered for the digger derrick. I looked for the easy path. My confidence was at an all-time low. My addiction had eroded my focus. I was terrified of the live wires—subconsciously, I think I knew my head wasn't in the game. I knew one slip would kill me or someone else.
So I became the "Dedicated Observer." The guy watching the work instead of doing it. I told myself I was "doing my part." The truth? I was hiding. I didn't care about improving my skills. I just wanted an easy day so I could save my energy for the only thing that mattered: The Party.
“⚠️ The Competence Gap
The Fault: You use your job title to hide your lack of skill/confidence. The Reality: Imposter Syndrome is real, but when you are actually incompetent because of addiction, you aren’t an imposter—you are a liability.
The Lesson: If you are scared to do the job you are paid to do, check your habits. Fear is often just a lack of preparation (or sobriety).”
The Dark Web Connection
Since I couldn't earn my place in the brotherhood with technical skill, I bought it with something else. I became "The Connection."
I wasn't just the guy who brought beer. I was the guy who could get anything. I was buying drugs off the Dark Web. It made me feel like I had a superpower. I felt above the system, above the law. On storm duty, in hotel rooms far from home, the "family men" wanted to let loose. They couldn't risk sourcing it themselves. That was my value.
I’d buy the rounds. I’d supply the blow. Sometimes they paid me back; usually, I just bought more than enough to cover everyone. I saw it as an Entry Fee. I watched them smile. I watched them relax. And I thought: They need me. I traded my bank account and my health for a seat at the table.
“⚠️ Transactional Brotherhood
The Fault: Buying friendship because you don’t think you deserve it for free. The Reality: If you have to pay for your seat at the table (with money, drugs, or people-pleasing), you are not a member. You are a supplier.
The Lesson: Real brotherhood is built on shared struggle, not shared supply.”
The Mask Swap (The Double Crash)
The crash happened in stages.
Stage 1: October 2022. I was sent home under investigation. The orange stripes were gone. The truck was gone. I remember gripping the steering wheel of my personal truck, seeing a Hydro crew pass me on the highway, and feeling a physical punch to the gut. Without the uniform, who the hell was I?
Stage 2: The Vestas Mask. I didn't answer that question. I just swapped costumes. I got a job as a Wind Turbine Tech. I told people: "I used to be a Lineman, but I left the trade." I wore the Vestas gear. I climbed the towers. I pretended I was fine. I was still hiding. Still running. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Stage 3: The Naked Truth. Then came jail. No Hydro gear. No Vestas gear. Just a jumpsuit and a number. That’s when the question finally broke me. I had spent my entire adult life building identities around logos on my chest. When you strip all of that away—when you are just a man in a cell—you finally have to meet yourself.
“⚠️The Identity Trap
The Fault: “I am what I do.” The Reality: Jobs are rental cars. You drive them for a while, but you don’t own them. Eventually, you have to hand the keys back.
The Lesson: Build an identity that doesn’t fit on a business card.”
🛑 The Uniform Audit
Are you wearing your job like armor? Check these 3 indicators to see if you are an "Identity Addict."
[ ] Indicator 1: The Title Shield Do you introduce yourself by your job title within the first 30 seconds of meeting someone because you don't know what else to say?
[ ] Indicator 2: The Pay-to-Play Are you always the one buying the rounds, organizing the parties, or over-spending to make people like you?
[ ] Indicator 3: The "Who Am I?" Panic If you got fired today, would you lose your entire social circle and self-worth by tomorrow morning?
THE RESULT: If you checked these boxes, you are wearing a mask. Masks are heavy. Eventually, they slip. You don't need a logo to be a man.
