Guilt, Embarrassment, and Cussin' Like a Sailor

I woke up this morning feeling extremely guilty and embarrassed.  I couldn't recall having a dream, but I never can.  I tend to think it odd that I don't dream, so it must be that I just don't remember them.  As for the guilt and embarrassment, unless I had a dream in which I tried to murder a defenseless old woman with a turkey baster instead of a butcher knife, it seems fair to deduce that I went to bed with said embarrassment/guilt.



When I do something embarrassing, I have a really, really hard time getting past it.  It's like wondering if someone notices that I belch excessively when drinking beer.  Sure, I do it silently (except, of course, in the presence of my sister or brother), but for all I know people notice in my facial expressions or something.  Then, I'll fixate on it in my head for a good month where most people would never see it as significant.

Let's say that I did something really embarrassing last Wednesday.  Hypothetically.  I will just defend myself by saying that it was completely out of my control.  Got that?  Completely!  I had no idea it was happening!  I know that, and probably the other witness(es) of the incident know that, but I can't stop thinking about it.  It's completely ridiculous.  I could clear the air with a little communication, I could say, "Hey, did you notice ___________?  Well, it wasn't my fault!"  Unfortunately, communicating about embarrassing stuff is not my strong suit so I'm gonna go ahead and lament over it until I am convinced that all involved have forgotten about it.  Gawd.  I hope there's not photographic evidence. 



Several months back, my best friend Lori communicated to me that she would be supremely happy if I made my next couple of life decisions based solely upon my own happiness and not upon my happiness contingent upon whether certain other people would remain in my life.  Of course, at that time, this could only mean one thing.  She was right, however.  So I've been feeling guilty because my intent has always been to follow her advice but I avoid admitting it to others.  Do I avoid it because it's uncomfortable to have that conversation or do I avoid it because I suspect that I'm a person who needs people?  Maybe complete independence isn't really my thing and I somehow feel small saying that out loud. 

There is a big part of me that wants to stay exactly where I am forever.  I want my friends to stay here.  I want everyone who will come into my life to come into my life here.  More than anything (Lori is going to shoot me...), I want to get married again someday and be the center of a happy family.  The people around me are my certainty and making decisions based upon my happiness as an individual without other people in the equation incites variables that make me anxious.  Somehow, acting on my need for certainty is making me feel guilty, as though I'm cheating myself and those around me.

Speaking of my friends, before I went to bed last night, I noticed a text that read, "U never responded to my story or poems...you suck."  I hate that message because I think about it all the time.  That I have a friend that feeds a need I have to talk about words and it's all been so one-sided.  He sends me his work, probably because if I were the friend I want to be, I would provide the feedback he desires.  And I feel guilty.  For the reasons I've read and re-read every word and for the reasons I haven't written him back.  I value the fact that I have friends that serve as constant reminders that a certain type of person exists but I avoid them because I feel apologetic for things I shouldn't.

Just to lighten the mood...


I've recently noticed that I curse entirely too much.  Yesterday, I went sledding with a man friend.  In attendance were a couple of his friends (along with their children) that I barely know.  Embarrassed over a failed attempt at nailing someone with a snowball, I may or may not have let the word "shit" be heard by the aforementioned children.  Seems small, but it's not.  I'm a 33 year old lover of the English language and, on a daily basis, I can't come up with more creative things to say than, "shit" and "goddammit."  It has to stop. 

The guilt and embarrassment are killing me!

Speaking of embarrassment, see the book I'm reading now.  That's right, bitches (blast it!), I've almost completed the trendy teenage vampire series in the last month and a half.  And I've only lost 18 brain cells.