Crawl Under a Rock and Turn Into Lichen

WARNING: This is a pretty whiny, self-indulgent post.  I don't blame you if those nauseate you.  So feel free to move along; this is not the post you were looking for.  
Did you know I'm an awful person?  I did, but I generally try to hide that fact from people and charm them with my wit and knowledge of obscure meaningless trivia.  For some reason it works as I seem to be generally well-liked by people who don't know me that well.
The problem with being ourselves is we know all our strengths and weaknesses.  And we try to hide those weaknesses.  Unless we're Oprah  Then we turn them into money.  We'll go for years hiding something so well that we even fool ourselves into thinking it's gone.
We came so close.
This morning though, I had the unpleasant reminder of just how rotten I have been.  For those who weren't around during the late teens/early twenties years of my life, I was pretty rotten.  

I'd really, REALLY like to go back and just erase 5 of those years.

One of my smaller indiscretions was that 10 years ago I borrowed something and then never returned it.  SHOCKING.  It belonged my cousin's girlfriend.  There was a breakup, it was awkward, and I didn't really know the person that well, and didn't want to deal with returning it.  Because of the awkwardness.  So I didn't.  Lame, but that's why.  And then I got married and moved 1,000 times.  It was just a book.  Something I figured this person replaced for $20.  I felt a twinge of guilt and mostly moved on.  Couldn't fix it anyway now.  $20 sucks, but it's not the end of the world.  Right?
Is she really this upset about losing a book?, you're wondering.
YES.  I wasn't before.  Just twinges of guilt and regret.
Except that I just got an email asking if this book was still around because apparently there were personal notes in it from her mom with priceless meaning.
wow.
I.
suck.
I don't even know what to say to that.  There's a small (very small) chance it's at my moms.  But most likely I lost something important to someone and it make me feel ashamed.
And I don't know about you, but shame if just about worst of the human emotions.  Guilt, fear, anguish-they have nothing on the sickening, feeling of shame right in your stomach.  You feel naked and exposed, which is not a good thing because we both know you look nothing like (insert hot childless model).  Only people aren't laughing at you "ha ha, she's got a mole on her butt!", instead they're grossed out because the mole is hairy, scabby, selfishness!  "Didn't I get that removed?"  No, you didn't.
So now the closet's open and the skeletons that are still in there are mocking me.  And I sit here and figuratively stare at them in wretched anticipation.  Because now I wonder not if, but when they'll be brought up again and some of them are pretty ugly.  And my kids wont be able to run for president because their mom had some major screw ups in her youth.

Which just goes to prove, dear internet, that I should never, ever, ever interact with people.  Because things go horribly wrong when I do.

update: and yes, I roll my eyes at my own self-loathing.  You know you've felt it over something small too; unless you were raised in a free love hippie commune where guilt was the ultimate sin.  I can't really relate to that.  But kudos!

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