https://upload.democraticunderground.com/11518580Oh my.
The problems the primitives seem to have makes one wonder if possibly they might actually enjoy having them, because they seem to do pretty damned little about resolving them, getting rid of them.
angstlessk (10,923 posts) Sat May 5, 2018, 06:44 PM
I was my family's scapegoat
I don't recall when I realized that I was the family's scapegoat, maybe when I was 60 or so, or maybe after my mother died?
My family (mom, dad, sister, and me) lived with my grandmother, who also had three children by my uncle (two of which may not have been his) whose mother plopped them down with my grandma.
I was the child who was bullied by all the kids...I just recall one time I was being particularly bullied into hiding behind the couch...I recall my mother saying "that's enough' as if everything before was just fine.
I ran away from home and went to court, and my mother told the judge I was 'incorrigible' and at age 13 I was sent to reform school.
I was the family scapegoat.
There is so much more, as I am sure some of you have experienced!
"Toxic Families Who Scapegoat" https://www.mentalhelp.net/blogs/toxic-families-who-scapegoat/
I think my mother was a narcissist?
The comments are for the most part those of 60- and 70-year-old primitives
still blaming poor old mom and poor dear dad that they turned out such nonentities in life. So the primitive comments are pretty boring, not worth bringing over.
However, I feel a need to wax autobiographical, but I promise I'll keep it real short.
I was the seventh of eight children, my younger brother and I being born after our parents had begun getting tired and grey, probably because the six oldest children wore them out. I am deaf, born that way, the only defective in the family. My parents and younger brother all died when I was still a teenager, but nearing twenty. All my older brothers and sisters were then married, with careers and children.
However, despite the most-excellent parenting and that we came from good blood, the older six when in high school and college turned into hippies, promiscuous drug users, Democrats, liberals, and primitives, going against everything the family had been for generations. I myself remained as I'd always been.
A perfect set-up to be a scapegoat, an object of misdirected anger; youngest, smallest, and handicapped. It was after all a great deal easier, and more convenient, to rage and storm at this innocent, unaware sitting duck rather than at the
real sources of their problems and unhappiness.
Until they all died--from afflictions and ailments of too much affluence--I was the butt of all their frustrations, anxieties, and resentments.
I suspect they were jealous because I was a positive person, and they weren't.
And herein is where the primitives purposely and deliberately keep themselves down and hurting, by refusing to acknowledge God, Who heals all.
I dunno where I picked up the idea, and I was pretty young, but anyway, somewhere along the line I developed the quite reasonable notion that what God, and not mortal beings, thinks of me is the only thing that matters. So I was a scapegoat, but whoop-whoop-whoop-dee-do, it affected me hardly at all.
