And I’m sure you’re thinking, “What?!  YOU, Jen??  An asshole?  I don’t believe it!!!”

Alas, it’s true.  And because I firmly believe that we are ALL assholes at one time or another, I thought I’d set aside my shame and throw it all out there into the light.

First, a brief background:  I’ve been divorced since 2009, right?  For the past five years or so, I’ve seen one particularly cool fellow on/off.  The on/off has primarily been a function of two very wounded people tenuously walking the line of self-protection and intimacy.  We date, we laugh, we fight, we break up.  Repeat.  The common thread is that we always end up talking again …. I think we’ve made it a total of two, maybe three, weeks with ZERO communication over those years.

Lately, it’s been a little different.  More consistent.  Less fear.  More trust.  Well, less-ISH fear and more-ISH trust.  We never did the Facebook thing very well.  Since we both need a fair amount of independence and yet each want some semblance of relationship, Facebook has been tough to navigate and we’ve avoided it for the past couple of years.  Until recently.  Like I said, it’s been a little different.  There’s been a slight push forward.  So we became Facebook friends.  We started more publicly acknowledging one another (gasp!).

And this is where my assholery begins.  With Facebook!  Of course!!  Thanks, Big Z, for adding even more bullshit into already complicated relationships!!

Clearly we’ve been on/off for years.  Of course there have been dates with other people sprinkled in there.  Of course some of that is recorded forever on Facebook.  And OF COURSE I had to go searching for it.

Sigh.

You know, I’m a psych nurse and all that, but I’m not always the best follower of sound advice.  Logically, I totally get that he has flirted with other women (just as I have flirted with other men).  However, seeing it before me in black and white on a computer screen is an altogether different beast.

Naturally, the best response when faced with such things is to take screen shots of the interactions.  And, naturally, the next step is to text the screen shots along with snide comments.  Because that’s such a healthy and mature way to express hurt feelings!  Talk about them?  Discuss them like a rational adult?  Pssshhhh.  Be a passive-aggressive asshole!  Totally!  Do NOT listen to reason.  In fact, do not listen AT ALL.  Be relentless.  Be childish.  Be exactly like a toddler who is overtired and wants a lollipop RIGHT FREAKING NOW!!!

Deeper sigh.

To G’s credit, he was pretty damn patient with me through it all.  Not that it mattered at the time.  What I wanted was a fight, a reaction, a reason to dig in even more.  I didn’t get that.  I got quiet responses or no responses.  And then, this morning, after a few more asshole comments from me, the train came to a stop.  I came to a stop.  And I looked around to see where I was.  And it was NOT GOOD, people.

You know, I’ve always been a fairly mature person.  With mom dying when I was 13, I had to grow up fast.  I’ve been through A LOT of shit:  depression, suicide attempts, date rape, a shooting, divorce, deaths of a mom, a sister, a brother, family schism.  I’m usually pretty damn laid back.  But when I get on a train, I GET ON A TRAIN and I ride that mother fucker to the freaking broken down end of the line.

It’s not something I’m proud of.  It’s something I’m actively working on.  And in some instances, I’ve made great strides.  I used to jump on the “suicidal thoughts” train.  I’d be in the depths of depression, and I’d jump right on board that one.  I’ve derailed THAT train.  That train doesn’t ever get me as a passenger, anymore.  But there are other trains (the Asshole train, AKA A-Train) that still lure me on board.  And it’s not until I’m way down the line that I even realize that I’ve climbed on for the ride.

I teach my patients that simply recognizing the negative thought/trigger is where we begin to heal and to take back our power.  It’s not always easy to recognize those things when feelings of hurt/abandonment/confusion/betrayal are screaming and howling in our heads.  I suppose I’m hopeful that writing this out and saying it out loud, so-to-speak, will help me claim ownership and help me take that step back from the cursed trains.

I hope you don’t think less of me.  But if you do, that’s okay.  Because this is all a journey.  Some people will want to be a part of it.  Some people won’t.  At the end of the day, I’m human.  I try very hard to be positive and kind and fun and thoughtful and responsible and loving.  Sometimes I fail.  Today I failed.  But today I also made a tiny bit of progress.  I disembarked the train and I asked for forgiveness.  And that is not a bad place to wind up.