Saturday, May 25, 2024

I finally figured out why I dread family birthdays how I'm doing it differently

Hi friends. Today's post is going to be another raw one so if you're triggered by stories of family mobbing or scapegoating, CPTSD, parentification, malignant narcissistic abuse, I recommend not reading. If you're following, you know that I've recently begun to allow myself to remember what happened and why I'm so disturbed by it. And I finally figured out why I dread family get-togethers, holidays and birthdays. And that's thanks to family mobbing, bullying and scapegoating surrounding them. 

For almost six decades, I've managed to store and lock memories but recently, the lock sprung and they came pouring out. My mom just plain doesn't celebrate me and excludes. Yet still expects presents. I get her a new phone. She gets me a used candle. With my dad and his wife, I recall that I always felt nervous and fawning at birthdays and holidays and family get-togethers. They always seemed mad at me. Why? BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS WERE. Especially when I got a life of my own. They even got mad at my fiancĂ©. 

These weren't my birthday parties because I didn't have any. I wasn't celebrated. These memories center on their sons' Christmas and birthday celebrations. I wasn't invited, just expected to be there and not to come empty-handed. If I arrived late (and I mean life 15 minutes) because, oh, I had work or school stuff or other events to attend, they literally pouted and made nasty passive-aggressive comments. 

On Christmas morning I had to be up at the ass-crack of dawn, to watch them open their gift mountains, even when I was in my 20s, and living with them to finish my last year of school. I didn't get much for Christmas, despite giving them lavish (on my small income) gifts.  And still my dad and his wife were mad at me. 

I used to think my dad was righteously angry with me. I thought I'd earned his wrath. Even though I'd hopped thru every hoop set for me. I remember trying to make conversation and they'd just snub me and maybe, finally deign to acknowledge me. How happy I was then. Or maybe just relieved. Whey, they were speaking to me again. Yay, they might accept me back as a family member. Now I can go back to being exploited, co-sleeping with their kid, doing all their work and getting nothing in return. Lucky  me. 

Now I realized they were just pissy. They used pissiness to control, manipulate and gaslight me.  They never did and never would accept me as a family member. I was staff. The malignant narc blame-shame gaming was boggling. 

I'm doing things differently and I'll blog more about that tomorrow. 

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