I was embarrassed with my self-talk. Or maybe I didn’t want anyone to know that I talked to myself—least of all, my mother. Even though she hadn’t identified me as the scapegoat, I still didn’t trust her.
I would have understood my mother’s behavior if we were still living out on the plains, having to survive, and she threw me to the saber tooth tigers circling. That would have been an easier death too. I would never know that there was something wrong with me. Just instant…nothing.
As my family’s scapegoat, everything was my fault. I was the sacrificial lamb or goat in this case. I was someone to blame for the ills of the family. And to “protect” the family, I had to be destroyed. Clearly, that did not work.
I believe people choose to be good or bad, abusive or not. It is extremely disappointing to watch the wrong choice being made. It was certainly devastating to me.
Finding some alone time during the holidays can be challenging. I have found a few stealthy self-care tactics that have worked for me when I need a few moments to breathe.
It is never too soon to try, learn, or do what you have always wanted to do. As an adult survivor of childhood abuse and trauma, I am starting to do things I could not do as a child.
Growing up in an abusive home taught me to be a victim. It took an enormous amount of spark to leave my abusive home. But I did it with the help of people who weren’t afraid to stand up with and for me.
Is my family dysfunctional? Well, mine is, definitely. But what does having a dysfunctional family mean? And how can you tell if your family is dysfunctional? How does it affect us into adulthood?
I am working on sobriety, weekly therapy sessions, and on medication. And yet no one asks about any of my journey. Why is that? Are other’s ashamed of my journey? Am I Bruno?
Having one narcissistic parent is bad enough (I guess), but having two narcissistic parents, well, that is, well, hard. My needs went unmet and unheeded to serve their needs.