Part 3: Accountability & Trust


Did I say that I'd be back Monday with a post about accountability? 
It's Friday. I'm sorry. 
And, you know, there are a few really great unanswered questions in the 
Ask Mr. Scabs file that have been ignored for weeks.  
It's summertime!  
And the truth is I often can't find the extra time to spend on my computer. 

Now, onto our discussion on accountability. 


I know what it's like to want to believe him.  To try and trust him.  

I know how it feels to be so lost and confused.  Betrayed.  Grieving the death of someone you believed existed.  Who you believed was your accomplice in life.  Someone who you believed would hold your hand everyday.  And who would wrap his fingers around your gray hairs while holding each other at the end of life.  

A love unbreakable.

I found myself hanging onto threads of trust.  Maybe we'd had a genuine conversation, he cried and showed emotion.  Maybe we spent some quality time laughing and being friends.  Maybe he'd told some kind of truth.  Tiny tokens of trust.  Easily broken threads.  

Sanity tells me not to trust him.  Insanity tells me to try and trust him.

I've learned to trust Sanity.  Sanity is my fairy god-mother.  She wears mint green skinny jeans and has the raddest jewelry collection.  She resides in my heart and in my belly.  I will always listen to her.  

Insanity is my anti-god mother.  She smokes unfiltered Camel Reds and her hair's a thin, ragged color of blonde.  Frizzy from poor nutrition and over-coloring.  We have a rusty relationship.  

Sanity told me to let go of trying to trust him.  And so I did.

As an unexpected residual, I was also able to let go of fear.  Fear held me so tightly.

I began to steer my own ship.  I disturbed the unbalance of power and control.  You see, he was sinking his ship.  Sure, it might occasionally come up and bobble for air but, no mistake, it was fading.  Soon to capsize and plunge into the frigid dark bottom of Hell.  Surely, the Devil had taken over the captains quarters on Mr. Scabs pimped out yacht.  I had to abandon his ship or my children and I would follow.  

This whole process began a natural progression into accountability.

It's a new discovery for me and I don't know a lot about accountability.  I have a feeling it's going to be one of my greatest discoveries.

Shame and embarrassment no longer disabled me.  I wasn't hiding, cushioning or taking blame for his messed up life, lies and unhappiness.  He became accountable for himself.  Setting my boundaries and limits, letting go of trust and fear, and steering my own ship left the responsibility to his shoulders.  Surprise, Mr. Scabs!  I dumped that burden on the deck of his yacht then paddled to a safe distance.  

Kinda like the day he ate too many chili flakes.  It's not my job to make sure his chili flake intake is the right balance and he's not sent into self-induced red-faced, fiery sweat convulsions.  Literally!  I wish you could have seen the pile of flakes he dumped on his chicken/mango wrap.  It was comical.

Do you think he'll ever over-do the chili flakes again?   The pain made him accountable for his overdose.

Sometimes it seems like sex or porn addicts get away with everything.  How is it that a man can travel the world on the hunt for sex and come home intact?  This is when Insanity speaks louder than Sanity or maybe they just both agree.  Through her ragged puffs of cigarette smoke she builds dark fantasies in my mind...

"Don't worry Scabs, fate's  got your back.  Right this moment, Mr. Scabs is entering a lair of hungry, Asian zombie hookers.  They only eat penis and balls with ketchup.  He will walk in a man and come out aphallic.  A few Band-Aids will be the only reminder of the man he once was."  (enter wheezy smoke-filled laugh)

I can't take any credit for that hallucination, that's Insanity talking (do you find it ironic that I'm not taking accountability for that tangent?).   It's terrible, isn't it?   But really, why do they seem to get away with lies, cheating, risky-behavior and all sorts of ridiculous sneakiness?

This is where accountability can take another form.  Instead of naturally occurring it can be impelled.  This happened when I had Tourettes, or when we'd attend therapy, or when he'd work the 12-steps and employ a sponsor.  

When Mr. Scabs decided to involve other people in his recovery this became more effective.  He became accountable to them.  He even feels accountable to all of you.  Secrecy feeds this addiction.

I've also needed accountability.  Especially, support in helping me follow through with my boundaries.  Accountability to help me moderate Sanity and Insanity.  Becoming accountable for my own actions and feelings.  Knowing when to ask for help.

The more accountable I am, the more accountable Mr. Scabs becomes for himself.  We have an evenly burdened teeter-totter.  My struggle to trust and believe his is gone. 

The responsibility to prove trustworthiness becomes his.