As you can see by the title of this post, I freely admit that it’s all my fault. All of it… Absotively, posilutely all of it in the most complete sense of the words. I really can’t stress enough, just how much it really is ALL MY FAULT!
By the same measure, I take all the credit as well. Not only is it all my fault, but I’m also completely responsible for all the good stuff.
I sense a furrowed brow on the other side of the computer screen, well allow me to (hopefully) clear up any confusion.
Everything I have accomplished successfully in my life is down to me. My hard work, my education (both formal and anything I have taught myself) and on some occasions, I admit, what could be construed as a modicum of good luck, although, I’m of the opinion that luck is just the culmination of a natural series of events in this universe.
True, I have relied on other people to achieve my objectives from time to time, but on the whole it’s all been about me.
ME, ME, ME!
I see no reason to thank any god for my natural talents, which are simply the result of gene combinations and perhaps training in one or two areas… But that training required at least an intrinsic ability to both learn and comprehend the subject matter, in order for the training to take hold and be effective.
God is not first and foremost in my thoughts when something goes incredibly well for me. Actually, he/she/it isn’t in my thoughts at all at such times and I certainly see no need for my successes to be attributed to a mythical deity figure when it’s all down to me, myself and I.
I’m guessing I come across as quite the egomaniac at the moment… But bear with me.
By the same token that I bathe in ass’s milk of my own magnificence when I’m top o’ the world, I also fully accept responsibility when I fuck up.
And believe me, I have fucked up royally in my time.
For instance, recently I needlessly hurt two people. One was a long-time friend, who finally ‘had enough of my shit’ and the other was a new friend that I wounded emotionally really very badly.
I have since patched things up with my long-time friend, but I don’t think I can ever repair the damage I did with the newer friendship, and I blame nobody but myself for that.
Do you see what I did there? I fucked up and then owned it. I didn’t try to dodge responsibility by blaming a third party for my mistake, I simply accepted the responsibility, just as I accept the accolades when I’m a winner.
To those two people (you both know who you are), I offer my deepest and most abject apologies.
I could blame illness, after all I was suffering a relapse into depression, which not only affects one’s emotional state, but it can play havoc with one’s thought processes too, causing decision-making to be at best faulty, at worst highly damaging to oneself and other people.
Please understand, I am not offering excuses here, merely stating how I see it. I did and said things over a period of time for which I have no excuse, and regardless of the underlying reasons for it. I fully accept culpability for any and all hurt that I caused.
That’s the thing, you see… For all the events in my life that have perhaps not gone as well as I might have hoped, I could blame bad luck, but I don’t believe in luck, good or bad. Shit happens, and that’s about as much as can be said.
I could blame circumstances beyond my control, but that won’t wash either, as most of the time, I was part of the decision making process, so even in the most extreme circumstances, I must carry my load of any blame that may accrue when the flying brown stuff hit the proverbial fan.
Ignorance could be the reason for a particular failure. I don’t mean wilful ignorance, I mean it in the least pejorative sense, but it still in no way clears me of guilt, as I could argue that my own lack of preparation or self-education is the reason for the failure.
It could be that a third party failed in some way to carry out their part of an action, or didn’t inform me of a vital piece of information, but again I could argue that it was a failure on my part to plan for all eventualities. A wise man once said, “Nine times out of ten, unimagined scenarios actually happen and screw up your plans.”
And last of all, it is most certainly not part of an ineffable plan, or ‘God’ moving in mysterious ways that was the cause of any of my failures.
The buck stop here! In that special place that is surrounded by calcium just behind my eyeballs.
In the same vein that I celebrate my successes, I also (if not mourn) at least try to learn from my failures. Sadly, I am not always a winner at learning… But I’m doing my best.
I like to think I am rational enough and courageous enough to take it on the chin and accept that, in the same way my personal success are mine, my personal failures are mine as well.
I don’t need to hold a mythological entity responsible.
I can expand that as well. If I don’t hold any god responsible for the ups and downs of my insignificant, little life, neither can I hold him/her/it responsible for any of the good or bad things that happen in the world.
Tsunamis and earthquakes are the result of volcanic or tectonic activity and not the whim of a deity who has it in for gay people.
Terrorism, be it in the name of religion or not, is entirely man-made and certainly not at the behest of an old man with a long, white beard that lives somewhere up there.
People who have survived cataclysmic events against seemingly insurmountable odds are not the recipient of a miracle, they simply happened to be in the right place at the wrong time (if you see what I mean).
It’s how we react to, and cope with it that matters, and if we handle it badly, I can only hope that we learn from the experience… It’s the human thing to do.