Do you consider yourself one of the family scapegoats that we often encounter in many families? Does your family always target you, even when it’s clearly not your fault?

If your family is scapegoated, two things can happen. You can become a narcissist yourself (narcissism is an elaborate defense mechanism to avoid further hurt and abuse) or you will internalize the early message that you are worthless, flawed, and have no rights.

I’m going to talk about the second scenario because that’s what this video is about and this is what happened to me.

How and why family scapegoats become lifelong victims of their families

Scapegoat

As a scapegoat, you are trained to live in fear. You are afraid to stand up for yourself, express your opinions, or demand fair treatment. This attitude of worthlessness, fear and shame is carried over into adult life. Others can instantly feel that you are a jerk, a magnet for abuse, rejection, and bullying, and you become a target for abuse by others in adulthood.

You can become a victim for life unless you find a way to break this pattern. Learning is hard to ignore because it was created so early in life by the narcissistic parent.

Golden children, who look too much like a narcissistic parent or provide them with narcissistic supply (adulation), are more likely than scapegoats to become narcissistic. They often become the flying monkeys of the aging narcissistic parent against the scapegoated adult child, continuing a pattern of family abuse.

Kidnapped children for ransom are family shock absorbers. They are the children who are tasked with absorbing the anger of the narcissistic parent and reversing what was projected on them.

This is exactly what happened to me. Even though I was an only child, sometimes acted as a golden child, for the most part I was made a scapegoat. My Asperger’s and my heightened sensitivity made me the perfect fit for the role.

Today I am the black sheep and “loser” of my family. I was never included in the family functions because of my poverty and the fact that I am “different” from the rest of them. Although they do not approve of me, I really become exactly what they need me to be. Being a “loser” ensured they would always be a winner.

I have been disinherited because they think I am unworthy, a shameful blemish on the ‘good name’ of the family, which further guarantees that I will always be poor and therefore weak – unless I hit the lottery (which I don’t play) or write a book, which I plan to do. The irony of all of this book may be that it reveals the people who raised me for who they really are.

I’ve always been a risk averse and an underachiever. My interactions with others hurt because of my fear of judgment. I was often bullied as a child and teenager.

She married a narcissistic man and continued to live with him and he tolerated his abuse even years after the divorce.

Even though as an adult I’m no longer bullied (and I’m in very low contact with my ex), people still try to push me, treat me like I’m mentally defective, leave me out of conversations, overlook me for promotions or a raise at work, or just plain Talking or looking through me as if I’m not there at all.

When I say something, people act like they can’t hear me. It’s very hard for me to make friends or fight back when I need to because I was trained from an early age to be very afraid of everyone. I am the proverbial shrinking violet and wallflower—the kind of woman my mother used to make fun of for being “queer.” I seem to have the opposite of charisma.

I’ve been walking around for so many years as if I’m ashamed to be alive. I carried shame with me like a heavy burden that affected the way I spoke, the way I arranged, the way I thought (all the negative self-talk and self-loathing), even the way I moved and carried myself. I embarrassed myself.

Since I started writing, I’ve learned that I wasn’t put on earth as an example to others of how not to be (I already believed in this), but God gave me these challenges and this life to teach me the value of things about me – but waking up to what God meant for me would be painful hard work. I don’t live in self-pity: Narcissists have been my teachers.

I dream that someday people who are not connected will know who I really am. that I have a personality. I’m fun and smart. That I have my own opinions, that I’m good at things.

But more than anything, I have a finely tuned bullshit detector—a gift unwittingly bequeathed to me by narcissists, a gift more priceless than any amount of money I might have bequeathed.

How and why family scapegoats become lifelong victims of their families

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