Responsibility and Accountability - Part 1

Me, Sam and our Grandma Em, one of the most wonderful people in the world, and someone I’m lucky enough to still be. in part, responsible for - 2025

I’m following a train of thought, so please bear with me. This one is a bit of a downer; I’m trying to understand peerless loneliness, responsibility, and accountability better mentally, and it's a process. Give it a major skip if you’re not in the mood for a bit of heavy melancholy. Normally, introspection like this would stay offline, but honestly, I’m past caring, and I like having everything in on place.

I will start by saying that I am the opposite of lonely. My life is full of people and love, and friendship. Jesus, I sound like a fucking care-bear. 

Isn't it weird that there isn't a word for the opposite of loneliness? Togetherness doesn’t cut it, and connected doesn’t capture it. But, I’m very happy to tell you that I am this non-existent word. I am both together, connected and loved.

But, to quote Tolkien, "But they were, all of them, deceived, for another Ring was made"

There is a secret kind of loneliness that no one warns you about. Partly because not many people know it exists or can’t place what the feeling is. It could be a new mother or father feeling alone, even though they're surrounded by support and people. A business owner surrounded by staff and friends. A student, before starting something big, intimidating and scary. This new loneliness is not the absence of people; it’s the absence of *peers*. When you reach a level of true accountability, when you become painfully aware that the book stops with you, there is no net under the trapeze, and the finger has stopped being pointed, that’s when you feel it.

The still, deafening silence of knowing that *when* it all collapses - when order takes a shifty looking step back into the shadows and chaos confidently strides forwards, when the shit hits the fan and when the people around you shut down - there is only you. 

True responsibility doesn’t come hand in hand with applause or praise. It doesn’t care if you're fucking tired or trying your best. It waits in a shadow-filled corner, wearing an intimidating suit, tapping its foot rhythmically, impatiently. Responsibility isn’t impressed by your meagre offerings and is always expecting more. This is not a woe-is-me situation. I have a lot of help and support, but that doesn’t trump responsibility. You can have help and support, but it's help and support with things that stop with you, not them.

Responsibility wakes you up in the night—not in blind panic shouting “fire”, but in the slow, dark realisation that no one else even sees the fire yet. You’re not just reactive, you're the only one capable of being proactive. Everyone would just fucking burn if you dont shout fire.

You're the one who signs the dotted line. The one who gets the phone call when someone screws up, even if that someone was you, yesterday, pretending to know what the fuck you were doing. And when anything falls from where it’s meant to be, nobody applauds you for catching it, they just watch, unaware that anything was falling.

Responsibility isn’t something you can wash off, run off, or take drugs to numb. It’s waiting for you when you're stood dripping after a shower, it's folded over panting next to you when you stop running, and it has only increased in size when the drugs wear off. Drugs don't just mean recreational drugs; it means any vices that are a distraction from your responsibilities. For me, it was, unfortunately, gambling. At the time, it felt like a great distraction, when my addiction came to an end, when I stopped, hopefully forever, everything was worse, and whose job was it to sort out - that's right, mine. That was my responsibility, it always was, and I made it twice as big as it was before. 

Responsibility leaks into how you walk. in to how how you speak, or should I say, how you stop speaking, because explaining the situation only makes you sound like you’re looking for sympathy - and the kick in the teeth is that real responsibility can't even afford the luxury of being understood, because its just for you, your own personal tailored, inescapable responsibility.

You’re not allowed to break. You’re not even really allowed to pause. Because the moment you hesitate, someone else’s world collapses. You can go on holiday, but if that shipping container is seized, or your child is taken ill, or your business floods, your phone is lit up and not answering is not an option. That is responsibility. People are relying on you, your staff, your suppliers, your contract holders, and most importantly, your family.

You are the thing they simply trust, truly trust without even having to think; you have to be steady and dependable.

You are the anchor. You are the floorboards. You are the earth.

It’s you.