The Green Pill Podcast: Self-Sabotage

This episode hits a little bit close to home. There are many things in my life that I regret, and most of them I can only blame myself, for sometimes AITA, am I the Asshole, yes.

For instance, there are two gentlemen I admire, look up to, and wish to emulate, both of who shown too bright and no longer consider me a friend. And, in both cases, it was because I was the Asshole.

A.K.

I’d known A.K. since college and always admired his intelligence, maturity, and thoughtful Canadian who I very much enjoyed talking to and doing things like discussing MST3K, watching RiffTrax together, and coding Python sprints. However, as my marriage started to dissolve, and after a brutal 2021 where I lost so much, continuing to hurt, I was finally starting to see the light as I was stressing over the planning for my half-century birthday bash, when all hell broke loose like a erupting volcano! The week before the festivities, the Supreme Court cast the perhaps worst ruling since Plessy v. Ferguson and Buck v. Bell when the corrupt court decided Dobbs v. Jackson. Of course, as an ERA warrior, I was dismayed, but as a new bachelor, I was apoplectic! Here I was, coming out of a marriage where I didn’t have any access to the one thing that monogamous relations restrict to the relations, I was terrified, incorrectly, I was about to be a bachelor entering a world where physical intimacy was impossible. Unfortunately, I said some things publicly which were reprehensible following the ruling and thus I Self-Sabotaged. A.K. blocked me on social networks and greenpdidn’t come to my party and since then he refuses to even hang out with me apart from allowing me to attend his Maryland Science Book Club. Yes, I was the 100% asshole.

D.B. and L.B.

Then there was time I was ready to start my Bachelorship and looking forward to spend more time with D.B. and L.B. Unfortunately, L.B., who I still care about deeply, got very sick from a nasty chronic condition, the same condition my late Aunt used to suffer from, so it became increasingly impossible to spend time with her. It got to the point that unless it was a very good day, she couldn’t even leave the home she shared with D.B.

L.B. and I were really good friends—we even talked about divorcing at the same time (unfortunately, it took me much longer to realize I needed to go). But, the thing is, it was her boyfriend D.B. who I really admired and wished to emulate. D.B. started a Dungeons & Dragons game before the pandemic and was kind enough to invite me to join. I was thrilled to be a part of the campaign and really enjoyed having him as dungeon master. But, L.B. got sick, and then the pandemic came, and we could no longer play D&D except over Zoom. I missed the personal interactions but I accepted the pragmatic limitations.

The thing is, D.B. and L.B. lived about an hour drive away, so whenever I was going to be close to where they were, I would send them a message asking if they were up to meeting. I didn’t think at the time that L.B. may not be up to meeting and was just sad at the repeated refusals. And so, I became an Asshole. I misinterpreted the refusals D.B. saying he and L.B. didn’t want to hang around with me, and said so, and after that I was blocked by D.B. and kicked out of his D&D game.

That loss caused me to truly hit an all-time low, confused about how I could have done so wrong, and finally forced myself to find a new therapist, since my old one was no longer covered by my insurance. In many ways, I think my mind reeling and making bad assumptions is very typical of an ADHD brain, and as that was the best explanation for why we were no longer friends, I posted a video trying to explain how I tend to self-sabotage, thinking I have friends I don’t deserve, and saying and doing things that fulfill my inner demon’s predictions where I will ultimately always say the wrong thing. Of course, me being an asshole, I didn’t realise the video should be interpreted as someone whining about being hurt by rejection when I only saw it as apologizing for overreacting to rejection. I tagged L.B. on social media and she interpreted it in the former way and began crying profusely while I was at work in the SCIF. It was so bad that my hero D.B. unblocked me just to tell me I did this to L.B. I was mortified and knew I could not say anything to defend myself, that anything I would say would make it worse, and I had to return to the SCIF. And, I had to be an asshole.

E.P.

After I started living on my own, I started dating a friend of mine I met through Bumble‘s BFF feature. E.P. and I got along great and when she suggested we become more than just friends, I ended my relationship at the time and started dating her. We had some awesome experiences together and I even cooked her Lobster on her birthday. But, as the summer drifted into autumn, we started to see less of one another. Then, last November, I had tickets to one of Taylor Tomlinson‘s last two shows on her Have It All tour. I got the ticket months earlier, constantly refreshing the app to get them as soon as they opened, while sitting in the parking lot of my work since I didn’t want to be in the SCIF when I made the purchase. As the day loomed neerer, I went out with a greedy woman who clearly wanted to just get the ticket out of me, and my friend L.S., who I really wanted to go with, was part of a press conference in New York, so she couldn’t make it. So, I ended up inviting E.P. I found out later L.S.’s conference was cancelled, but by then it was too late, as I’d already invited E.P.

E.P. and I had fun, and she got me a nice gift, making me want to return the favour. We weren’t intimate that time, though we had been before, mainly because I didn’t want her to think I was quid pro quo with her. I remember her mentioning she liked some special socks and wanted some special tea so I went and got some inadvertently crappy socks and really nice tea from Ireland. I tried and tried to meet up with her again, but things kept coming up. Finally, we set a date where we could meet for two hours. In the runup to our date, she texted me that her husband—yes, she was married, but she told me she was ENM and I’d have ended it otherwise—said she couldn’t go out. I, of course, being the asshole that I am, misinterpreted this and the husband saying she couldn’t go out that Thursday, and assumed we were still meeting that weekend. So I texted her a few times over the weekend, asking when she was going to get here, and accepting she might not make it. She never replied because of course she had told me she wasn’t going to make it. My overthinking mind misinterpret things and she blocked me. The asshole strikes again.

L.S.

Back in January, L.S., who I am quite attracted to romantically, invited me to a play to raise money for the homeless. I was excited to go and wanted to sit with her. I got their early and scanned the audience, but didn’t spot her. I looked and looks but L.S. was nowhere to be seen. So I found a seat in the third row, right and began to enjoy the performance of Annie. Midway through the third act, one of the actors escorted in a woman—L.S. I didn’t know at the time that he was one of the performers but I decided if L.S. had company, I wasn’t going to disturb her. So, at intermission, I ignored her. I intentionally kept to myself, reading the playbill. Like an asshole. I met her after the play and we did have a nice chat and she seemed to want to continue chatting but I had to get home before my Safety Score went up for driving after 22:00, raising my Insurance. And so I said goodnight, and left as the asshole I was.

AITA?

Actually, it’s complicated. In those situations, yes, I was an asshole. But am I an asshole? No! Most assuredly not. I admit I make mistakes because to see our own mistakes is the only way we can learn from them. So, I accept my poor behavior as being poor, but I’m the better man for it, for I learn from my self-sabotage and I do things differently. And that’s the point. Sometimes you can’t avoid being the asshole—but, unless you learn from it, you’re going to be the asshole again.

All this and more is covered in our episode on Self-Sabatoge.

Community Room at The Avant

A Half-Century of a TimeHorse

In one month, I will be celebrating my half-century of existence. What’s more, I will, for the first time in a quarter century, single. After much hemming and hawing over my continued love for the woman who was my wife, with the frustration over so many things I can’t discuss, the coup de gras being things like Nowhere to run? and Sheltered in Place with a Domestic Abuser? and incessant unnecessary forced to sanitize when we really should just Relax—you actually don’t need to sanitize your food!

The thing is, these days I need to physically leave my premises 3 days a week because I’m required in the office. I’m typically the only one wearing a mask there because I do believe in being cautious—especially since the recent SARS-CoV-2 outbreak. It’s not like I’m endangering myself when I go to a writing group or an electric car event. I use due caution every time I’m out, typically 5 days a week. I’ve even tested negative, and triple vaccinated!

You’d think that’d be enough, but nope. Every time I return to the house, I have to do the four S‘s. I’m effectively forced to Surrender all of my items—iPhone, Apple Watch, wallet, even my glasses and wait for them to be Sanitized! Then I need to Strip to my underwear because my clothes “must be contaminated”. Finally, I’m supposed to Shower, but and only when I come home, never in the morning or before I go out.

I put up with a lot for all these years, from a profound lack of physical intimacy to constant threats of divorce whenever she was cross with me. I put up with it for all these years because I truly believed she was the best woman I could ever hope to be with. The truth is, she may still be the best, but with all I have to deal with, I would quite frankly rather be alone—though I’m not dead yet, so we’ll see what the future holds.

Now, you may be wondering why it’s taking me so long to move to my new apartment, especially since I’ve been paying rent since 30 January. Well, for the last 11 years, I have been enjoying extremely inexpensive charging at my house on the Dominion Schedule EV with my Clipper Creek CS-100. But, when I got #CO2Fre, my first Tesla #P三D, it came with free, unlimited SuperCharging. The plan was, I could take advantage of the free fuel, move to an apartment, and just charge up the vehicle on my way to work at the Sterling Supercharger.

But then, while coming back from a Star Wars cosplay event, where I was cosplaying Grand Moff Tarkin, running late for a barbeque with my brother, I found myself on the most evil road in all of Fairfax County. Braddock Road is mostly a straight road, but it makes this one incongruous bend which is the bane of all my existence. I had just paid off #CO2Fre 24 days earlier, when, on 25 July 2021, the same year I watched my mother die and attended my dear Aunt’s funeral, the greatest car I’ll ever own, and my ticket out of here was totaled. I was taken to the hospital and, because of the airbag deployment, I was even left in a cast—which you can see on my TikTok. To top it all off, my uncle died on 31 December 2021 to cap off an utterly tragic year.

GEICO and Tesla refused to fix it. I lost my ride, my free fuel, and my free celular entertainment system, the later a $99 per year value. Supercharging I can’t even begin to estimate, because I wasn’t using it during the Pandemic, and I knew I would need it when I moved to an apartment.

As it was, I did find an apartment with EV Charging. However, if you don’t move your car within 4 hours, you will be charged an arm and a leg, meaning you’d have to get home, and set an alarm to remind you to go back down and move your car. What’s more, while charging under Schedule EV costs me about 7.5¢ per kWh, the apartment costs 15¢ per kWh, double the price. And, if I wanted to use the Supercharger, it would cost 30¢ per kWh, four times what I’m used to paying. And that cost is constantly increasing!

People seriously lambasted me on social networks when I lost #CO2Fre. Of course, it’s just a car, but my whole plan went up in ashes with that loss, and here I am, 123 days with an empty apartment, stuck with the quadruple S‘s, because I just want keep saving on fuel. That’s why I was so sad when I lost my ride, because I knew life would be more expensive and I would end up staying longer than I needed. I wish folks could have understood—I had to take whole 2 month hiatus from social networks to avoid the vitriol.

However, here we are, today. I now have #NoSO2TeslaP三D, I pay for Supercharging and Premium Connectivity, but I got rid of GEICO, who grossly undervalued my precious ride, and now am insured by Tesla, constantly trying to improve my Safety Score to lower my insurance rate, as well as finally qualify to beta test my $14,000 investment in the Full Self-Driving Beta. And my wife is working with my to get the divorce finalized as soon as possible as a final birthday present to me.

And you know what? Imma have a party! A party to celebrate a half-century of existence, a party to celebrate my divorce and freeness, a part to play board games and sing karaoke and cosplay at your leisure, to grill with my brother and have pizza aplenty with plenty of vegetarian and other dietary options as requested. And unlike Jeffrey’s Jammin Birthday Bash 2 years ago, this party will be in person, on the third floor and community space of my new apartment in Reston Town Center. I’m hoping maybe even the Metro will open by then, but then, I’ll be lucky to just have you show up.

Get your free tickets here! Please remember to RSVP so I can let the concierge know you’re coming.