"sorry"

I used to say "sorry" a lot. Like, too much. I'd say sorry pretty much whenever anyone expressed the slightest bit of displeasure -- not even at me, just in general. And not like a "I sympathize with your plight" sorry, a "I accept blame for this" sorry.

That's a really hard habit to unlearn, and I found out recently that I may have gone too far in the other direction. I hurt a friend pretty badly, and when we talked about what happened, over a week later, they told me that I had never even said sorry.

This was a mind-rocking realization. I was and am immensely sorry, and I had no doubt that I was at fault. Not in an artificial "I'll just take all the blame, that'll be easier" way -- a genuine "I've looked at the facts and yeah I definitely fucked up here" way.

But I hadn't said it. And I knew there had been times when I had thought it, and decided not to say it (or, text it) because I didn't want to be overwhelming with effusive apologies. I didn't want to seem to be pleading for forgiveness, but I ended up seeming like I didn't even know I had done something wrong.

I feel weird about writing this post. I feel weird about writing this paragraph. It feels like I'm apologizing for not apologizing sooner, and then I'm apologizing for apologizing again right now. But my brain has been spinning around this all day, and it isn't a good idea to let that kind of thing fester. Plus, I've said I'm going to try to be more open on here again, and it's either this or "uuhhhhgghh I can't think of something to bloooogggg abouuuttttt."

My brain has a lot of traps like this, and this is my attempt to stop running the same script over and over for the rest of the day/week/month/semester. Paralyzing psychological traps are pretty much never the solution to themselves, anyway.