I’ve got a broken picker.
Do you know what that is? Some of you might, but I’m thinking most others might not. And no, I am not talking about the finger you use for things I don’t want to know about. Let me try and explain it.
Do you find that you keep picking the same types of people to date or start relationships with?
For example:
This time it’s going to be different. Everything is wonderful, just dandy in fact, and then a few months later (if you make it that long) you’re asking yourself: who the hell is this person and why is he/she in my life?
Same old shit, different shovel.
Many of you know, if you’ve read my personal blogs, that I’m in a 12 Step Recovery program. While in recovery, I’ve learned a few things about myself. One of those things is that I have a broken picker. That means that I always pick the same type of person to date. I even pick the same types of friends. I go with what’s familiar, and even though this new person, whomever he or she may be, seems different, in the long run they end up being just like the last morons I wasted my time on.
Do I sound jaded? I’m not, I swear.
Truth is, I repeated this behavior over and over again and I was in the habit of always blaming the other person for ruining my bliss. What I failed to realize was that I had a part in all this mess, too. Realizing and taking responsibility for my part are things I learned because of recovery a long time ago.
See, if you keep ending up with the same type of guy or gal, you kind of have to ask yourself what the common denominator is. Honestly, I was the common denominator in most all my situations. I realize this doesn’t necessarily apply to all love-gone bad-situations. There are always exceptions, but in my case it was applicable in damn near every relationship.
I have this saying:
Tattooed on my forehead in invisible ink is: If you’re an alcoholic, drug addict, biker, truck driver, ex-con, unemployed, sex addict, gambling addict or… (I could go on forever here) PLEASE TALK TO ME! Only those people I’ve listed can read this tattoo. Normal people are oblivious to it, and frankly I’m oblivious to them too.
I grew up in an alcoholic/drug addict home. My father was the alcoholic/addict and my mother was crazy. Chasing after his ass, trying for all it was worth to get him to behave. Recovery calls this “The Family Disease.”
You don’t learn a whole lot of healthy relationship skills when you live that way. And let me tell you, I dragged all of those unhealthy skills into every single relationship or friendship I got into.
Even knowing all of this about myself, alcoholics and addicts are my very favorite people, by far. I love them. LOVE THEM! They’re the most exciting people on the planet.
My point is, when I figured out I was the reason I was ending up in bad relationships, I started looking at why. The why helped me become aware of my own crazy behavior, and only then was I able to start making some changes.
With all that said, it does not mean that my broken picker is fixed. Far from it. I don’t think it will ever be completely perfect. I still tend to pick friends that are not the best for me. As a result, I get hurt. It’s harder to see when it’s a friend. Some of the friends I pick may still be broken in their own way, but I see them clearly now. I can accept them for who they are or how they are and actually have a friendship with them. I love my broken friends and they love me. I’ve also accepted the fact that I will always be drawn to these kinds of people simply because I am broken too. I just know better now which broken ones I should steer clear of.
In regards to men? To this day I can spot one of you bad boys at twenty paces, let out a little sigh, and think Yep, you would have been so much fun. You know, until it wasn’t fun anymore and I was leaving his ass!
For me it was always the familiarity of the bad boy, and of course, the challenge. I don’t seek out the vanilla type. I look for that spark that ignites my own. Really, the only thing I like that’s vanilla is my ice cream. I seek the excitement, the challenge, and if you don’t notice me, even better, because I assure you quite soon, you’re going to know exactly who I am and you’ll never forget me. This, my friends, is bad, bad, bad!
That sort of behavior leads me down roads I’ve travelled too many times and always ends up with me hurting someone or someone hurting me. Honestly, the examples I listed about me aren’t bad as long as they are on an even scale. Problem is, I don’t ever keep anything on an even scale. My pendulum swings dramatically one way or the other. I had to look and think about the why. Then I had to learn different actions. I can think about it all I want but the only way to change the pattern is to act differently. Fortunately, I get lots of opportunities to practice. Practicing is the key.
Here’s the deal. You can fix your broken picker, but in order to do that you need to look for the why in all of this. You have to be able and willing to look at yourself truthfully. That can be pretty damn scary, but if you can do this and then learn how to take different actions, you’ll save yourself a lot of heartbreak.
I somehow managed to marry the greatest man on the planet. He’s not an alcoholic or an addict, but he is a biker and a tattoo artist. SCORE! Just enough badass excitement on the outside, and inside he is a really normal, family oriented, romantic man. How the hell did I get so lucky? I’ll never know. Most likely it had something to do with recovery and not me. I would have picked the ass sitting next to him if left to my own devices.
We’re not perfect. We never will be. All we can do is try and do better. I try and I screw it up a lot, but then I try again. It works for me, and because it works for me it can work for you too.
Good luck and happy hunting!
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Naked Candor is an uncensored series of bold but delicate stories that reveal complicated personal truths about life, love and sex; told by those brave enough to bare!
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