Oops. Sorry.

Last night, I did something that I spent all weekend trying not to do.
I was with friends, having a great time, and feeling confident in myself. Just as I was leaving the place, I made a small social error. I should have played it cool, should have let it roll and been done with it. Instead, I backpedaled and scrabbled and in essence, spoiled all of my good work in being confident and self-assured. Then I clawed more frantically after my drive home, rushing into the house and composing this huge e-mail of apology to the person who received the brunt of my gaffe. Graciously, that person replied about 10 minutes ago and said all of the things that I knew I should have done. Basically, I know better than that. Why did I resort to my old ways of groveling with apologies? Why couldn't I be cool about it? I guess I've practiced the hsbit for so long that it becomes instinct or reflex.
That person is unbelievably kind to be so thoughtful and helpful. I don't want to obsess--in fact, that's one of the things the person told me, "Don't obsess over this."--but I'm so mad that I messed up and revealed the part of me that I finally thought I could get over. I hate that I'm that person, and what's more, I hate that I look like I can't be a good friend because I'm obsessively apologizing. I'm balls-crazy, and now they all know it.
But. Here's my plan: Do what my friend said--be cool. Act with grace. Don't worry about it. Just have confidence and self-esteem and move on.
I think I can do that. I wish I hadn't screwed up, but I can't change that now.
I'm crazy, but I'm getting better.

I'm still sorry.