The scapegoat

[LifeIsWorthLiving]

I have two narcissist parents and several siblings. Because of that there was a sort of shift through my life of who was targeted as "the scapegoat" at any given time. There were definitely favorites. I would say both my mom and my dad have their "golden child". I knew I was never the favorite, but it's only recently begun to dawn on me how hated I was. I have countless examples of either being blamed for things I didn't do or when I did do something wrong, the reaction and punishment far outweighed whatever I had done.

I think this explains both my anxiety and my very strong desire for justice. Had anyone else had those moments when things just sort of start to click? I feel like I'm finally understanding myself.

This is really just me figuring this out and speculating. Thanks for reading. Lol. I needed to write this somewhere.

[Goldielocks]

Yes, I had one really big 'click' a few years back when a long forgotten memory resurfaced quite suddenly.
It involved me as a pre-school child watching with horror as my narcissist mother turned on me over something I had said. I stood unable to move until she told me to go away - then she followed me and continued her attack.

To this day I still get smaller 'clicks.'

I know what you mean about understanding ourselves.

[appaloosa]

Yes! I didn't have any clicks until my mid fifties. I think I just blocked out the reality of my childhood. I was blamed for things I didn't do also. Then, when I was going through a difficult divorce and my enabling mother (whom I always adored, as she was the 'nice' parent) refused to even discuss my fears and worries--I had a major click. Realized we had never really discussed anything beyond the weather and 'how the children are doing in school'--always superficial topics. It dawned on me that she actually didn't care about me that much, which was a very bitter realization. My parents actually drove 10 hours to go visit my soon-to-be-ex and gave him an expensive gift and made him dinner. Like it was an apology for their crappy daughter leaving him! They never even asked me if I could use any help to get me through this very difficult period.  Wouldn't even talk to me about it.
Very hard, as I realized I was basically an orphan. I moved to another country and my mother never even asked if I arrived safely.  Nothing. (I didn't expect my father to ask)
And yes, I think coming to these realizations does help one understand many things about oneself. The desire for justice, kindness, etc

[moglow]

I knew I was never the favorite, but it's only recently begun to dawn on me how hated I was. I have countless examples of either being blamed for things I didn't do or when I did do something wrong, the reaction and punishment far outweighed whatever I had done.

I was also primarily the scapegoat, although that shifted  with mothers ever-fluctuating moods and whims. It took many years for me to see the shifting sands for what they were - mother was only ever interested in what served *her* best at the moment. If it/you made her look good, she was all over it. Even the slightest bobble into disapproval though, and you were the target of her contempt, ridicule and/or rage. The WAY over the top reactions to the most minor offenses never ceased to terrify me. I tried to be invisible, but of course that also triggered her. I learned that someone who wants to be mad (mother) will always find something to suit their purposes.

I think things really changed when I/we grew older and become less predictable older children, when we *gasp* dared defend ourselves against her incessant and ridiculous accusations. My closest friend in my preteen years became a target by extension, with mother casting the blame for my limited attempts at independence (or justice) on this friend. God forbid anything be a reflection back on mother and her parenting choices - or just a normal part of growing up!

I knew from a young age sonething wasn't right but I never talked about it. I had been taught that you don't talk about "home," much less mother. When my friends made comments I was in complete denial. I just couldn't go there, with anyone - and of course there was no trust, no way to build it. I knew how bad it was at my house so to some degree I assumed others had experienced the same. And you just don't talk about it.

But yes, as you say, there's a point where so much starts clicking into place, where we can see why we respond to certain things the way we do. That lack of justice is HARD, and it feels like a neverending fight for it later (even when there's no need for any fight at all).

Once we start seeing things for what they really are and realize it's not "us" at all, there is a huge sense of relief. That's when we can take a much needed step back and start accepting responsibility only for our own stuff - and letting go of theirs. Would that we had learned that decades ago!