Is it me?

I must have too much time on my hands. I keep finding myself obsessing thinking about recent events and wondering what it was that I did to cause that to happen, whatever "that" was. I'd like to think that my mind is working so frenetically that it runs out of things to think about while I am about my daily tasks, and then begins to look for other things to do while my hands and body are plodding along trying to keep up.

Yeah, I didn't buy that one either.

More likely, I'm so ADD that every distraction that comes along insinuates itself into my grey matter like a tick or a spider and then claws into the mass until it gets the attention it's seeking.

Okay, THAT needs a little mental bleach.

Back to the topic as I intended, when I start to think on these recent events I try to ascertain cause and effect. What did I do to cause that event? What did I do to alter that course of action? And of course I look at it as my fault - why wouldn't I? I am well aware of being my own worst critic, but then I know myself better than any other person does, therefore I know my faults. And while I know that not everything is my fault, it's still my fault.

A couple of things that happened to me within the past week or two grabbed my attention like virtual slaps in the face. Things that on the surface shouldn't have meant much, and probably don't, but for whatever reason turned into those parasitic critters, digging and chewing their way into my psyche (LOVELY image) until I found myself revisiting them, much like picking at a scab that would heal faster and with less scarring if left alone. True OCDers (CDOers for the truly, TRULY CDO) know better. "Why leave it alone when you can do some serious mental gymnastics with this one?" I should have probably just left well enough alone.

I didn't.

The first event happened a few weeks ago. I was having a discussion with a friend who was dealing with some issues I wasn't a part of, but mostly just venting. Looking for an opportunity to verbalize what was going on at the time, mostly for their own sake. I certainly didn't have any answers. At one point, however, I said something to them and, to stress my point, I reached out and touched the back of their hand with my fingertips. Not a slap, not grabbing, not poking. Just a soft touch on their hand. When I did this, they flinched. They flinched. They. Flinched.

Is it me?

My first thought was that I surprised them, but as we were sitting at a table fairly close and had been so for a while, I was pretty sure they knew I was there at the time. My second thought was "What do you see when you look at me?" What kind of image do I throw out, what impression of myself do I share with others? Am I mean or a brute? Did they think I was going to hit them? Am I just that creepy?

Don't answer that last one.

It was something so small, so insignificant and yet it almost completely derailed my ability to finish the conversation. The hurt was palpable. Still, when I think back about it, I still feel that little squeeze where my heart is supposed to be. It really made me look at our friendship and wonder at the validity of it. Is it all pretend, are we just playing at being friends?

I don't have the answer.

The other day a friend turned and made a comment to me. After a few moments they realized they were talking to the wrong person and apologized, laughing, and life went on. A small, insignificant instance. Nothing of import, no feelings hurt, nobody offended. And yet, I find myself wanting to be the person to whom they were asking the question. We shared a chuckle at it and it was forgotten.

Except it wasn't.

And I can't help but wonder if it is me. Again. (Still?) Is it my attitude? Am I mean, low or base? I admit to having a pretty dark sense of humor - I still think farts are funny. Am I sleazy? (Strike that - it falls into the same category as creepy, see above.) Is it something I can't see? What am I that I am not what I want to be? And how do I fix what is broken.

I dont' expect any answers. I don't know that my ego can take much more abuse. No worries, I'm stable and confident enough that even if I never figure it out, I will survive. I'm also a realist enough that I know that whatever is lacking or whatever it is I am doing, I own. It's me whether I discover what it is or not. Those who I have asked tell me there isn't anything, that I am being too hard on myself. I just don't see it that way. Maybe I'm reaching for a star I'll never touch. I know I'll never be perfect. Hell, I'll never be what I want to be.

But I can't help but wonder, is it me?