The Narcissist’s web is incredible. Just when you think that you’ve figured out all the games, one crops up out of nowhere. Most of the time making you feel like a completely paranoid lunatic.
Remember, it’s just a game. They want a response. It’s like watching a car crash. It’s like when you are falling in a dream. It’s uncontrollable madness. Actually, it’s kind of poetic as well. The ease in which the narcissist is able to just pull on the strings and get people to play. Almost as if it’s a play. Carefully orchestrated. Masterfully manipulated. Flawlessly executed.
“I’m sorry that he’s twisted your mind and playing with your heart. I’ll call you in a few days when we can have a non-emotionally fuelled conversation.” No sooner do I say those words that I realise that even I play a role in the big show. Walking away isolates the new target. But is helping someone at the cost of my wellness a fair request? Wanting to heal is an inside job. I do not help people, I empower them. But I also have to accept if they refuse to pull themselves out of the storm, there is nothing I can do. I remind myself of the saying, “You can lead a horse to wat but you cannot make it drink.”
Have I transitioned from the scapegoat to the black sheep? I much prefer this [new] role.
Do black sheep still get abused? Do they still get blamed? Or is the beauty in being a black sheep mean that everything is disconnected? Completely? Have I detangled myself from this web of dysfunction?
I’m not sure. I’ve been trying to ride the waves and accept truths as they come. A sentence that has been playing over and over again, “I have two children. I’m not ready to par it down to one.” These words have been sitting with me for a few weeks.
My gut reaction is to question, “if that’s true then why didn’t you protect me? am I not also your child? am I not worthy of being protected?” But of course, I remind myself that when I played the role of the scapegoat, I wasn’t afforded such a luxury of being allowed my own feelings. Scapegoats are the reason for the problems. They are the root cause of the drama. It’s a matter of breathing really. Each time that I inhale is a complete annoyance to them. If I share an emotion, I’m greeted with “Jess, you are so dramatic”. If I stand up for myself, “Jess, anyone that doesn’t agree with you is an abuser in your eyes.” It’s all an attempt to keep me in my place, this is conditioning.
At the same time, my name keeps falling off their lips. So I ask myself, “if I’m nothing then why do they keep pulling me back in? More importantly, why do I allow it to continue?” I know better than to verbalise such silly questions.
It’s not a matter of understanding. It’s a matter of acceptance.
I’ve been sharing a bit on my facebook as I’ve felt that space is more controlled. It’s safer. But it’s also a lie that I tell myself because I have just as many foxes in the hen house on my social media as I have lurking around in the world wide web. Any abused person knows the more you shed light on recovery, the bigger the target on your back becomes. The more dysfunction that surfaces. It’s a continual process of accepting and removing. Accepting and removing. Accept. Remove.
Progressing my healing whilst being mindful of the personality switches of others is exhausting. Reminding myself that everyone is two people, who they are in public and who they are behind closed doors. The first step in acknowledging there is a problem is examining how they view me. When free from abusive fog, they are loving/kind. When they are in the fog, they are simply extensions of the abusers. I go from daughter to scapegoat faster than anyone can say WTF just happened. Am I still making up excuses? Justifying abusive behaviour? Should I even acknowledge this duality? Which version is the true version? Is the supportive one real? Or is the overly critical / argumentative one?
My only drop of hope is the unsolicited apology. But apologies mean that people take responsibility for their behaviour. And to them, I’m still the scapegoat. By definition, the scapegoat is at fault. So I hold my breath for something that will never happen.
Is my heart ready to accept this truth?
Everyone is on a different healing journey. I understand denial because I was in denial for a very long time. I knew the consequences of allowing my biological father in my life. I just hoped that he would take responsibility before causing me harm. If calculating from the loaded gun situation, that was just about 3,000 days ago. Just about 3,000 days ago is when a sacred trust was broken. The denial is thinking that the sacred trust was only broken between a daughter and her father. The reality is that a sacred trust was broken between all relationships, between daughter and father, between daughter and mother, between sister and brother.
Mom rightfully states that my biological brother shies away from drama. That’s only partially true. He is the one that fuels the fire of the person with anger issues. He’s the one that makes her beg for crumbs of affection and he’s the one that is constantly dismissing any sort of conversations that require a smidge of emotional understanding. But he’s also one that learns and hardly repeats the same mistakes. In 2016, he made the grave mistake of putting something into a family text (family defined as Dad, Mom, him) where he took ownership of causing trouble. This time, he did it verbally. The result was the same. I was the scapegoat, Dad was the verbal abuser, Mom was the target. Last time it was 2 days of abusive texts, this time it was 50+ hours of abusive texts. Last time, it was because I was going to get a certificate in coaching (self-improvement) and this time it was because I admitted I was raped (self-improvement). Who was the catalyst for causing the disharmony? Why is my self-improvement threatening to them?
So the question still remains, does she still have two children?
At what point do you throw in the towel? At what point does one stop waiting for someone to wake up and remember that having TWO children means supporting and protecting both children? Both children. At what point does one just accept reality rather than exercise patience and empathy. Patience for her to wake up. Empathy to understand that her rewiring goes a lot deeper. It’s a losing battle. I cannot continue to protect those that allow others to cause me harm.
Looking after my safety is not harmful to them. At the end of the day, I would not have to walk away if people just acted like decent human beings. But then again, expecting a parent to protect and support a child is having entitlement. At least in my family, that’s how it’s defined. Jess is entitled. Because to them, I’m not worthy of love. I’m not worthy of kindness. I’m not worthy to be protected. I am the dumping ground for everything that they do not want to deal with.
Another truth is voiced. I hit publish. Mom is the only one in my heartspace. Do I scrub her out too or wait for her to advance her healing? I’m not sure how much more I can endure. And this is a perfect example of emotional abuse. She acknowledges being used a puppet but fails to see who is pulling the strings.
Today she is an extension of abusers and gleefully partakes in the abusive cycle. Today, I’m not a daughter, I am a tool. At least in their dysfunctional world, I’m nothing more than a tool being used to extract an emotional response.
Awareness before Change is imperative. Acceptance before growth is powerful.
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