Ten Ways to Duck Responsibility

1. Always be tired. Or sick. Or headachey. You can't be held responsible for actions taken under the influence of physical distress. Eg.: "I know, I was so cranky, but Stella had me up all night teething and little Joe's got a bug...."

2. Persistently misunderstand what people are asking you for. Eg.: "Oh! When you said you wanted me to stop off at the store and buy some milk, you meant today!"

3. Forget everything. Eg.: "Did you ask me to put my dirty clothes in the hamper? Are you sure you wanted me to unload the clean dishes? I don't remember you telling me that we had a dinner party tonight. Why would you write it on the calendar? I never look there."

4. Be drunk. Or stoned. Or both. I've never been either, so I can't be sure how this works, exactly.

5. Claim safety in numbers. Eg.: "But everyone was going to Hooters for lunch, honey! Why are you so upset? I'm only there for the chicken wings."

6. Have an unending series of horrendous days at work. Eg.: "Oh my god, that's right, you did ask me to finish the taxes this evening. I'm sorry. Really. It's just that I had this meeting that dragged on for four hours and...."

7. Experience trauma. (Note: this one is more convincing when it is authentic. Fake trauma tends to raise hackles, not sympathy.) Eg.: "But when I was little I almost drowned in a toilet and now the sight of a toilet bowl makes me panic, so I'm sorry but I can't ever scrub the toilet. And one day I'll tell you about what happened when I tried to take the garbage to the curb!"

8. Claim to be more highly evolved. Eg.: "I'm sorry that my sleeping with your sister bothered you so much. Personally, I don't believe in these outdated notions of territoriality in relationships and sexual possessiveness, but I guess we're not on the same page. Let me loan you my copy of Heinlin's Stranger in a Strange Land. When you're done, we can talk."

9. Lie. You'd better be good at it, though. Eg.: "Look, I don't know what you're talking about, or where you got that idea from, but I quite clearly remember coming home from work yesterday and spending an hour in the backyard pulling weeds, not watching Three's Company reruns, and if there's still a lot of weeds in the backyard that's just because I'm not done yet. So no, I'm not spending this evening priming the bedroom walls, I'm going out for a drink."

10. Blame Fate. eg.: "I couldn't help it, the Universe made me do it."

10. is new. 10. is only about a month old. Up until then, 10. was often my favourite way of getting out of trouble--not necessarily with other people, but with myself.

Any one of the first nine can be a valid reason for fucking up. Despite the stated desires of the composers of many online dating profiles,* we all have baggage, some of us more than others, and we all make mistakes, and sometimes the reasons for those mistakes are compelling and genuine. I'm not denying it. But it's more convincing and better when it is accompanied by accepting responsibility and making a genuine effort to change. You know, a real apology,** consisting of real remorse, and followed by a real reform, even if imperfect.

Whenever I didn't want to have done something--whenever it didn't fit with my conception of myself or who I wanted to believe I was--I'd blame Fate. I didn't do that on purpose, I couldn't possibly have, I didn't want to, I had to; what else could I have done?

I've mentioned this before: the Jungian concept of the Shadow, the part of the mind that holds everything we don't want to acknowledge about ourselves. It is not the Freudian Id, assumed to be an uncivilized child full of impulse without control. The Shadow is not necessarily bad or wrong; it holds what we believe is bad or wrong. Those beliefs don't have to make any sense. For instance, if you are a female and you believe it is bad for women to be aggressive, then your own aggression will get stuck in your Shadow, where you will never have to face or admit to it. But there it goes, frequently losing its marbles and ruining your life (or at least your day), safely out of reach. And when you encounter this trait in other people--in this example, when you meet an aggressive woman--you will hate them. This trait is unacceptable and so people who have this trait are unacceptable too.

Every fall and winter during the long dark days between the fall and spring equinoxes, and especially between Samhain and Yule, my Shadow and I get into a boxing match. I get to know it a little better, see it a little more clearly, and reclaim a few more traits I wish I didn't have but which are better owned and managed than left to fester unacknowledged.

This year's was tough. This year I learned that I am so convinced that I ought to be happy and satisfied already with what I have at this moment, that I do not believe I am entitled to want to be happy, let alone to actually do something about it--all my wants and most of my needs have been shoved off to the Shadow, where I label them selfishness, refuse to acknowledge them, and they end up periodically running my life. When I act on one, so terrified am I of admitting to having done so or even having wanted something in the first place, that--I Blame Fate.

Fate, for me, is a scapegoat for selfishness (even when the selfishness is appropriate or healthy). The Universe has no designs on my life. There are simply things I can't or don't want to take responsibility for.

Now I'm left wondering if Fate ever means anything but I don't want that to have been my fault or I don't want to have to know why that really happened. That Fate really means "I had to," without knowing or understanding why we had to, and without wanting to.

~~~~~

*I don't know what it is, but "no baggage please!" is a common phrase. I wonder, what, you want Sleeping Beauty? Someone who's been unconscious for the last hundred years? You want to be someone's first boyfriend? No? Then you're going to get baggage. More obnoxious is when it becomes apparent that by "baggage" they mean "kids."

**Far as I'm concerned, "I'm sorry" without some commitment to changing the hurtful behaviour is the equivalent of, "I know this is incredibly painful for you. I feel very badly about it but I'm going to keep right on doing it." This makes it, by definition, not a real apology.

(This is part of Julie's Hump Day Hmm--Julie, I'm so sorry, but you'll have to do the linking this week--Frances decided to share her cold germs with me!)

Posted by Andrea at April 9, 2008 8:34 AM under Me

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