The Occasional Asshole



I have come to the realization that, like it or not, sometimes I am the asshole. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned (over and over again, the hard way) it’s that sometimes I don’t always say things the way I mean them and sometimes there’s no way to get that conversation back.  I’ve lost friends this way.  In some instances, trying to clarify, provide additional details, or even say it a completely different way, only serves to make things worse.  A flat tire turns into a train wreck.

Sometimes I think I am speaking clearly, and making total sense, and get completely bushwacked by someone being offended because they misunderstood me. Then, to realize that I have no means of effectively communicating what’s on my mind in that given moment.  Imagine having all the abilities of speech and manners and suddenly coming to the realization that none of it is real, and you might as well be mute.  It’s not that you’re speaking a different language, where you just need someone who understands to translate; you are completely mute, and no one can help you.

Needless to say, this situation will completely ruin the day.  My anxiety is amped for hours, then there is the subsequent stuttering and stammering over ordinarily simple things because I can’t get my mind right for all the guilt and regret over pissing someone off.  The knowledge that (no matter how good I try to be) that person may now and forever see me as an asshole looms for days.


It is hugely important to realize that mistakes will be made, and this does not make me a bad person.  I will, of course, feel bad for days, weeks, months later.  The truth is that in the end, that one instance here or there will usually not matter in the long run.  Life goes on, and if the person was a close enough friend to know I have these issues, they will forgive and they will realize I am beating myself up over it.  If not, well, I have to wash my hands of guilt, having made my apologies, and learn from the mistake. 



One thought on “The Occasional Asshole

  1. As I re-read this post I found my mind wandering to the blog of a high school friend who recently passed away after a hard fought battle with ALS. Why, I’m sure you must be thinking, did my mind go there? I usually don’t know why my mind goes where it does most times and I think it’s better that way, but this time I knew….I really knew why! You wrote about not being able to put into words what you were trying to say……or at least not the right words…..and I thought of her post about no longer being able to speak other than a few gutteral noises and how she compaired it to a game of charades. She made noises, and her family and/or friends tried to guess what she was trying to tell them. She had long since lost the ability of controlled movement so she couldn’t point or gesture. Her frustration was many times so overwhelming she’d just end up in tears! I could see that feeling in you when you were young and you’d become sooo frustrated when we didn’t GET what you were trying to tell/say/explain. I was something I could still see in you as an adult, however I could also see you trying to take control of your frustrations, think it through, and get the point across. You may not see the difference between then and now, but I do and I’m pretty darn proud of where you are and more importantly, who you are.

    Liked by 1 person

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