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Family of Origin
Good article on how to stop being family scapegoat...Confused, Cedar, you may like it too.
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 653713" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>"It can be a horrible horrible experience but, if one is willing to break free and take steps toward healing, these former victims turn into some of the strongest people known to man! And they grow into advocates for others who are hurting. There is so much hope for the former scapegoated individual. And each step will lead to more and more wholeness."</p><p></p><p>This is quoted from SOT's posting on scapegoats.</p><p></p><p>So, now we know where we are going, and who we are coming to be.</p><p></p><p>Hard battle.</p><p></p><p>Hard wired for conflict.</p><p></p><p>That's us.</p><p></p><p>Here is an interesting thought regarding scapegoating. So, could there be such a thing as scapegoating in reverse? The trap is the same one. The end results are the same. </p><p></p><p>Or could it be that, as seems true to me, we all were given to one another to work through this somehow?</p><p></p><p>I'm kind of coming to a dead end, with my family. Maybe I was meant to stand up all along. Maybe that is the thing that will make the difference for all of us.</p><p></p><p>Best to let that pony ride, maybe.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I like the definition of hatred as hurt and anger. I know that as I come through layer after layer, what at first seemed blazing hatred or ugliness or cowardice or fraudulence or blah, blah ~ it just seems to lose its charge. It isn't that I don't love them, it's just that I don't find common cause with them.</p><p></p><p>It is better to clarify the places someone bigger, or someone I was taught it was my responsibility to protect, took a bite from a power over position, naming what they did, naming the nature of that relationship love. I think a piece of what happened to us (to me) is that I didn't know how else any of this was supposed to look where family of origin was concerned, and had no faith in my own judgment. </p><p></p><p>So I accepted theirs.</p><p></p><p>About myself.</p><p></p><p>And you must first dehumanize, before you can victimize.</p><p></p><p>So, in some sense, I was a dehumanized little person, growing up with access to only half my self. </p><p></p><p>So I did pretty well, then.</p><p></p><p>I've always been afraid that I would hate them, and that is so ugly. (Mine is an ugly story, and that may yet be its outcome.) Instead, it's like I don't even recognize them. There is such a sense of dis-reality between who I thought they were and who they turn out to have been.</p><p></p><p>?</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Part of what is happening now is that as I learn I do not have to be perfect, or reach for (and continually fall short of) perfection, or even feel doing a thing perfectly is possible, I am developing a sense of judgment, of locus of control in here, not out there where only I am not perfect, where it is my responsibility to make everything so pretty on every level.</p><p></p><p>Perfectionism works into all this somewhere, I just know it.</p><p></p><p>Perfectionism and locus of control. If I could just be perfect enough, they won't kill me. If I had been perfect instead of terminally flawed, they would have loved me.</p><p></p><p>Instead, they tried to kill me and oh, boy, they hated me while they did it.</p><p></p><p>That is the thing. Hatred funneled at us when we are little doesn't feel like anger and hurt. It feels impersonal, like a mass murderer.</p><p></p><p>No one to help.</p><p></p><p>No one to see.</p><p></p><p>Only me.</p><p></p><p>It was so helpful to me when one of us posted about our being only thirty to fifty pounds (or less) when these terrible things, physical and emotional, were happening to us.</p><p></p><p>(F you, mom.)</p><p></p><p>And I know why doesn't matter, but what ever could have happened to these adults, that they could live with themselves, could face other adults, knowing what they had done and were surely going to do again, to a child?</p><p></p><p>How does that work, I wonder.</p><p></p><p>Maybe there was no help to be had for them, back in the day.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>Oh for heaven's sake.</p><p></p><p>Then why are they still doing it now.</p><p></p><p>I just get that sense of unreality around all this "why" stuff.</p><p></p><p>Why doesn't matter. If it did, I would already know.</p><p></p><p>It is enough that I see it, now.</p><p></p><p>I just can't hardly quite freaking believe it.</p><p></p><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/Graemlins/9-07tears.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":9-07tears:" title="crying :9-07tears:" data-shortname=":9-07tears:" /></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 653713, member: 17461"] "It can be a horrible horrible experience but, if one is willing to break free and take steps toward healing, these former victims turn into some of the strongest people known to man! And they grow into advocates for others who are hurting. There is so much hope for the former scapegoated individual. And each step will lead to more and more wholeness." This is quoted from SOT's posting on scapegoats. So, now we know where we are going, and who we are coming to be. Hard battle. Hard wired for conflict. That's us. Here is an interesting thought regarding scapegoating. So, could there be such a thing as scapegoating in reverse? The trap is the same one. The end results are the same. Or could it be that, as seems true to me, we all were given to one another to work through this somehow? I'm kind of coming to a dead end, with my family. Maybe I was meant to stand up all along. Maybe that is the thing that will make the difference for all of us. Best to let that pony ride, maybe. *** I like the definition of hatred as hurt and anger. I know that as I come through layer after layer, what at first seemed blazing hatred or ugliness or cowardice or fraudulence or blah, blah ~ it just seems to lose its charge. It isn't that I don't love them, it's just that I don't find common cause with them. It is better to clarify the places someone bigger, or someone I was taught it was my responsibility to protect, took a bite from a power over position, naming what they did, naming the nature of that relationship love. I think a piece of what happened to us (to me) is that I didn't know how else any of this was supposed to look where family of origin was concerned, and had no faith in my own judgment. So I accepted theirs. About myself. And you must first dehumanize, before you can victimize. So, in some sense, I was a dehumanized little person, growing up with access to only half my self. So I did pretty well, then. I've always been afraid that I would hate them, and that is so ugly. (Mine is an ugly story, and that may yet be its outcome.) Instead, it's like I don't even recognize them. There is such a sense of dis-reality between who I thought they were and who they turn out to have been. ? *** Part of what is happening now is that as I learn I do not have to be perfect, or reach for (and continually fall short of) perfection, or even feel doing a thing perfectly is possible, I am developing a sense of judgment, of locus of control in here, not out there where only I am not perfect, where it is my responsibility to make everything so pretty on every level. Perfectionism works into all this somewhere, I just know it. Perfectionism and locus of control. If I could just be perfect enough, they won't kill me. If I had been perfect instead of terminally flawed, they would have loved me. Instead, they tried to kill me and oh, boy, they hated me while they did it. That is the thing. Hatred funneled at us when we are little doesn't feel like anger and hurt. It feels impersonal, like a mass murderer. No one to help. No one to see. Only me. It was so helpful to me when one of us posted about our being only thirty to fifty pounds (or less) when these terrible things, physical and emotional, were happening to us. (F you, mom.) And I know why doesn't matter, but what ever could have happened to these adults, that they could live with themselves, could face other adults, knowing what they had done and were surely going to do again, to a child? How does that work, I wonder. Maybe there was no help to be had for them, back in the day. Cedar Oh for heaven's sake. Then why are they still doing it now. I just get that sense of unreality around all this "why" stuff. Why doesn't matter. If it did, I would already know. It is enough that I see it, now. I just can't hardly quite freaking believe it. :9-07tears: [/QUOTE]
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Good article on how to stop being family scapegoat...Confused, Cedar, you may like it too.
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