Not everyone is accountable. Everyone should be accountable for their own words and deeds, no doubt about it. But emotional abusers have a curious relationship with accountability, a relationship of two sides. The same kind of relationship they have with everything.

On Planet Zog, the emotional abusers’ world, Other People – that is, YOU – are accountable for everything that happens. They, on the other hand, are accountable for nothing. Nada, zilch, rien de rien.

You could be forgiven for thinking momentarily that it would be quite charming – for a change – to enjoy their privileges. Fancy being able to demand endless rights, and consideration; fancy jumping on as many toes as you like as hard as you like, yet NEVER, EVER meriting any comeback…

But you just wouldn’t do it, would you?  You simply couldn’t escape knowing that all that self-centred entitlement is the mark of someone profoundly objectionable and pig-headed (in the most literal sense of the word, also).

If I sound personally peeved, I am. It’s been yet another one of those weeks. There’ve been enough of them recently to morph into one of those months. Ground-Hog day has been playing on a loop in my life.

Just in case I didn’t understand the nature of emotional abuse, I’m experiencing the dubious pleasure of seeing it play out, all over again.

Not with my lovely partner. Anything but! He’s being wonderfully, selflessly supportive through this.

When I met my lovely partner, I told him very little of my family background. This is something I always, always advocate.  Telling new partners – or prospective partners – about the emotionally abusive relationship(s) you’ve been through is a monumentally bad idea. It’s an ‘overshare’ that positions you as a victim where potential emotional abusers are concerned.  While a potential partner comes from a functional background, will struggle to understand what you’re talking about. And he may well decide against saddling himself with your baggage.

When you find a healthy man, you want him to see YOU, not your baggage.

I told the man who became my lovely partner very little about my background.

Besides, it was in remission.

I’d worked through the feelings, moved on, and fondly imagined it was over.

Hmm!

An accomplished emotional abuser, as I have often said, is never one to waste a good crazy-making opportunity.

My elderly mother is currently fading away in a care home. Not a great care home. Not a care home where they cherish people at the end of their lives. Definitely not a care home I would ever have selected.

But then, I wasn’t included in the decision-making process.

By virtue of my gender.

The way it worked in my family was that the females were meant to put up and shut up.  As a female, I was precluded from having anything useful to contribute to… well, just about anything – except cooking, cleaning, and child-care.

A couple of weeks ago, my lovely partner and I witnessed my mother being subjected to poor treatment that caused her considerable distress.

The siblings didn’t want to know.

I flagged it up to the home and the appropriate authorities.

And the fun started. I was accused – by the siblings, naturally – of “stirring up problems”, prejudicing our mother’s care,  and interfering with her right to “die with dignity”.

Best of all, they – who did not witness what I did – told me that what I said, and what I’d seen, was not true. They knew what had or had not happened better than I did myself.  Despite not being there.

(But we all knew that emotional abusers have (hidden)  superpowers, didn’t we?)

The siblings knew me better than I knew myself, allegedly – just like my dear old dad did. That was a favourite boast of his.

I was responsible for any – and every – bad thing that happened to my mother.

Do you see how it works?

The emotional abuser manages to set himself up as the blameless one – which gives him the right to cast stones aplenty.

When I stepped back and looked at what was really going on, it was curiously enlightening.

The siblings ordered  me to contact the authorities involved and take back what I’d said.

Now, let’s imagine a little role reversal.  Let’s think what would happen if you tried saying to an emotional abuser:

“You’ve really messed up this time. What you experienced, and the sense you made of it, is not just wrong, it’s evil. You have to publicly deny your truth. Because otherwise you could make me look bad.  You are a despicable human being, because you say things that make me feel bad.”

Do you think they would even listen?

Er…

I’d put money on you getting a reply which would include the word “off” as part of a two word instruction.

That’s the beauty of being an emotional abuser and not being accountable. You can do, and say, whatever you like. What’s more, you don’t ever have to worry your nasty little head about not doing the best for your family – and I’m talking children, and parents here, NOT your specific victim. Because whatever you’ve done, however idiotic, or thoughtless, or cruel, you can tell yourself it’s the very best that needs to be done.  You’ve gone over and above the call of duty. It’s just Other People who are undermining your wonderful choices.

Grrr!!

No wonder emotional abusers are such Crazy-Makers.