Being the family scapegoat can drain your emotional energy, even when you understand the patterns.

This week, I'm sharing how I've felt overwhelmed over the past couple of weeks, why I’ve stopped calling it a family scapegoat “role,” and what it’s like to enjoy family moments while still grieving what’s missing.

I also talk about how I’m taking care of myself.

If you’re struggling too, you’re not alone.

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DISCLAIMER

The Lessons For Life With Gramma Kate Podcast and content posted by Cathy Barker are presented solely for general information, educational, and entertainment purposes. The use of information on this podcast or materials linked from this podcast or website is at the user’s own risk. It is not intended as a substitute for the advice of a physician, professional coach, psychotherapist, or other qualified healthcare professional, nor is it intended to diagnose or treat any medical condition. Users should not disregard or delay obtaining medical advice for any medical or mental health condition they may have. They should consult their healthcare professional for any such conditions.

(Transcribed by TurboScribe. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Welcome to Lessons for Life with Grandma Kate.

This week's episode is a little different.

I don't have a list of life lessons or a challenge for

you.

I'm sharing where I am today.

The past couple of weeks, I haven't been doing very well emotionally.

And you know what?

I'm okay with saying that.

I've been down this road before, much worse actually.

I've had times that I called them nervous breakdowns.

Times when I simply couldn't keep doing everything I had to manage.

Back then, I didn't understand how being conditioned as a family scapegoat

taught me to take on everyone else's responsibilities, put my needs last,

and then blame myself when I couldn't keep up.

I just thought I was weak.

I thought I couldn't handle life.

I tried to manage a home and be a good wife, mother,

daughter, and sister, work, keep everybody happy, and somehow find a way

to do all of that with very little to no help.

When I did ask for help or needed rest, others saw it

as weakness and used it against me.

So I kept going, no matter how exhausted I was, until I

crashed and burned.

As I reflect on my current emotional state, my initial thought is,

how do I keep allowing myself to get so overwhelmed?

But now I know how to think differently.

I see what is happening around me more easily because I see

the same pattern repeating itself.

But understanding what's happening doesn't mean I never get weighed down.

I want to be clear about why I'm sharing this.

I'm not sharing this to punish anyone in my life or to

ask them to change.

I'm sharing it because someone out there is probably feeling the same.

If that's you, you're not alone.

I think telling our stories matters, especially when we've spent years being

made to feel like the problem.

Research on sharing traumatic experience suggests that being heard by someone

who listens and doesn't blame us can help us feel less shame

and self-blame.

But speaking up can be frightening when you've learned that whatever you

say will be turned against you.

I know that fear.

You start thinking about everyone's reaction before you even said a word.

Your experience matters, even if your family doesn't want to hear it.

I've also been thinking about the expression, the family scapegoat role.

The word role makes me feel responsible for changing myself, and I've

tried.

But changing how I respond hasn't stopped other people from scapegoating me.

In Rejected, Shamed, and Blamed, Rebecca C.

Mandeville calls it family scapegoat abuse.

That wording matters to me because it puts the responsibility on the

person doing the blaming, shaming, and ridiculing to change their behavior.

I can work on myself, but I can't do that work for

them.

For a long time, my understanding of other people worked against me.

I could see their difficult childhoods, how their mothers treated them, how

their fathers treated them.

I could find an explanation for almost anything.

But in the end, I was still the person dealing with the

constant blame.

Their upbringing got consideration from me.

My hurt got questioned.

Then when I got up the courage to name what was happening,

I heard things like, You're making me look bad.

Oh, that tells me something.

Because where is the concern about what happened?

Where is the willingness to listen, to say, I didn't realize I

hurt you.

Let's talk about it.

When the response focuses on how they look, I feel hurt and

blamed for bringing anything up, and that can wear a person down.

For the past several years, I haven't gone to Thanksgiving or Easter

dinner on my husband's side of the family.

After years of being put down at those gatherings, I'm no longer

willing to put myself through that.

My husband, kids, and grandkids still attend those dinners, so when I

stay home, I miss out on a holiday dinner with them, and

that just hurts.

This Thanksgiving, I was asked to go because only a few family

members on his side would be there, but it's still my husband's

family.

Whether twenty people are at the table or three doesn't change why

I stopped going, so I said no to the dinner and made

my own plans.

Over the weekend, I watched my grandsons play hockey and went swimming

with my daughter.

On Thanksgiving Day, I went to a live show on my own.

But enjoying those days doesn't take away the sadness of missing a

holiday dinner with my own family.

And that's what confuses me.

It isn't all bad.

I have good days with my family, and I treasure them.

But the good moments don't cancel out the ones that hurt.

I wish I could show up as myself and feel welcome.

I have twisted myself into so many shapes trying to make these

relationships work.

There isn't another shape left to try.

So honestly, I feel brain dead right now.

I'm having trouble thinking clearly and putting my thoughts together.

I've lost my appetite to eat.

I don't feel like doing much, even working on my business that

means so much to me.

I'm feeling depressed.

My mother had a saying, My giver has given out.

I understand that now.

That's how being the family scapegoat drains my emotional energy.

And if you're feeling this way too, please tell someone who can

support you.

Whether it's a doctor, a therapist, or someone you trust.

You deserve to be taken seriously and helped, not told to try

harder.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I can't make someone

else see me differently.

I can't make them listen, take responsibility for what they say or

do, or want the kind of relationship I want.

I've talked about radical acceptance before.

It's about seeing what's in front of you instead of holding on

to what you wish was there.

But you know what?

It's still hard.

Knowing what I need to accept doesn't make it hurt less.

Especially when I hear, I love you.

But I don't hear from the person.

They don't call, they don't text, and they don't include me.

So right now, I'm taking time for myself.

I've withdrawn a little.

I'm collecting my thoughts and processing things.

I spend a lot of time reflecting.

I'll journal, think, doodle, walk, put on a meditation when I want

one.

Give myself room to hear my own thoughts without immediately questioning them.

And I'm going to pay attention to how I speak to myself.

I try to keep telling myself, I am not always the problem.

Because blaming myself has become so automatic.

Even now, I can catch myself going straight to, what did I

do wrong?

But I'm not taking responsibility for another person's behavior just because

they won't.

Other small things help too.

I bought a necklace the other day, and I love it.

Nothing fancy or extravagant.

But it's fascinating what happens when I put it on.

I feel different, a little more confident, a little more empowered.

Clothes do the same thing for me.

When I wear sweatpants and hoodie, I don't feel the same as

when I put on something dressier.

Then I add my necklace, and I get a double whammy.

I feel good, I feel a little happier.

And right now, that's something I want to do for myself.

On days like these, I also watch videos for words of encouragement.

Those creators have hard days too, and I'm grateful they keep showing

up.

Because sometimes, one thing they say is exactly what I need to

hear.

I'm living what I talk about.

Sometimes, that means recognizing a pattern and responding differently.

Sometimes, it means feeling the grief that comes with seeing it clearly.

This week, it means admitting I'm struggling.

And I still have hope.

I have hope in myself, knowing I will get through this yet

again.

Here's part of a poem that helps me called Don't You Quit.

The author is unknown.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will.

When the road you're trudging seems all uphill.

When the funds are low and the debts are high, and you

want to smile, but you have to sigh.

When the care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you

must, but don't you quit.

One line has stayed with me, rest if you must, but don't

you quit.

For me, that means resting when I need to, and not giving

up on myself.

Whether you're starting to understand yourself more clearly, or learning to do

things differently.

You're building the skills to grow into the person you're meant to

be.

Listening is important, but real change happens when you use what you've

learned.

If this episode resonated with you, there's a link in the show

notes to show your appreciation.

Either way, I am grateful for you being here.

If no one has told you lately, everything will be okay.

Tomorrow is a new day, and with it comes new hope.

As I conclude this episode, I must state that this podcast is

designed solely for educational and entertainment purposes.

While I bring my experience as a parent and grandparent, it's essential

that you know, I am not a licensed therapist.

This podcast is not a substitute for professional advice from a physician,

professional coach, psychotherapist, or other qualified professional.

Got it?

Awesome.

Until next time, what is one thing you are grateful for?