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Betrayed By My Mother!!!

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Escape Goat

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(Note: I’m the Scapegoat / Lost Child and Asperger-autistic)

Sven and I had a long history together as high school chums and although both of us were finished with it some years prior, we continued to correspond and sometimes go fishing. If there was any social group in that little mining town that had it in them to not judge me so harshly and reject me so vigorously, it was Sven, his family, and his entourage. It was as if I fitted flawlessly within their Scandinavian culture. He and his family had many times invited me to their functions, picnics, and fishing outings.

My Golden Child sister also hung out a lot with his sister, Britta, and their family lived across the street from me. That day, that year, my GC sister and Britta were graduating from high school. When we attended the ceremony, our families ran into each other and exchanged pleasantries. Mom was right there when Sven chirped: “come down to our place for a drink and hang out a bit”. They were hosting a social for Britta’s graduation, which I didn’t know until I got there. Considering my long history with them as family friends, I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary or inappropriate. They offered, I accepted.

Mom was all smiles as she handed me a big platter of munchies to bring to the party. When I got there I got chatting up as usual with Sven and his father. I had been employed by Sven’s father’s construction business one summer and he had also twice helped me get summer jobs in other departments of his mining and exploration firm. We had a long, solid and wholesome history.

The conversations –as usual with them- were as always witty and intelligent. And then all those really pretty girls started to show up. 3 of them walked up to me and Sven and joined the conversation. For me all the right words came out at all the right times. I was on a roll. Up to that moment I had been one of those guys who couldn’t score with girls if my life depended on it. This time it was different, and it was magical. It seemed I was on the cusp: I had a sense of knowing at least one of the girls would want to get to know me better.

And then my GC sister lightly pinched me on the arm to get my attention: “Mon wants to talk to you”.

“I’ll be right back”

“Mom, you wanted to talk to me?”

Her response was terse and angry: “You have no business being there!”

But M-

As usual, I was NEVER, EVER allowed to speak in my own defense let alone explain when targeted by another of Mom’s long, harsh, and shrill diatribes. I had meant to say that “they invited me, I accepted” but there was never any such chance in an argument with Mom. There was no explanation; just that my younger Clown / Mascot brother was graduating next year and that I would “have the chance to be part of the reception at our own house”. For all it was worth, I had no desire to be part of that. Anyway, I knew that I was going to be out on my own before then. Where? I didn’t know but I knew I had to start planning as of that moment. I was in my early 20’s and it was time anyway.

There are no words to describe how I felt about having an opportunity like that torn away from me by the very woman who should have been happy to see me “find the right girl” as my 2 brothers did, seemingly as if provided by a divine source.

Considering Mom’s skill, intelligence, and passion for arguing, she could have been a highly successful and prosperous lawyer. I wanted to retort: “Forget it. I won’t be here anymore by that time anyway”, but I remained silent to keep the peace. I looked at her wordlessly, then turned and walked away. I silently began to concoct my own plan: to catch a moment such as their going out of town in my no-regrets absence, and then take the Greyhound to the furthest part of the country to where I now was, settle there, change my identity, and take an unlisted phone number.

That night, I cried myself to sleep as I had done so many times so many nights. It was the only way I could cope with starting the next day with the stoicism I needed to get through.

So, fellow Scapegoats / Lost Children, was it that terrible and that inappropriate that I was deemed to be intrusive and/or seen as spoiling my GC sister’s Graduation Day, given this type of history as family friends and a chain of events like that? Was I seriously violating a social etiquette or was it just Mom protecting her darling little Princess? Honestly folks, tell it to me like it is.

Escape Goat
 
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I'm so confused.

Why didn't your GC sister have her own party?

Its sort of crazy that your mother was telling you to stop socializing because you'd have the chance to do so in another year at your brothers party.

I'd say this is all your mothers BS. You were invited to a party, you accepted the invitation, and you attended. Given what I've read, you did nothing wrong.

Did you kick your mom out of your life yet? (Speaking from personal experience, one of the best things I've ever done for myself.)

ETA

Or did your sister have her own party? Its kind of weird that she'd be sent to fetch you. Maybe your mom was embarrassed that you went to the rockin' neighbor's party while there was nothing for her own daughter?
 
At your age, you had every right to go where you choose. As a fellow scape goat/lost child, I feel your pain. I cried and cried for years. Going to college was my way out and I've never been back. f*cking bullies. I hope through the years that you stay connected to Sven and his family. They sound positively functional!!!
 
Solara,

TY for the reply.

Unfortunately those events are now more than 3 decades old. I have been going to counseling for some years now and only now have I woken up to how evil my mother really is.

I was also denied something that could have been wonderful; possibly even a romantic relation.

I tried to address that with her but it was futile. Any imposition of any kind or anything that is ever said about how she raised her Darling Little Princess only sets off her long, shrill, and fiery tirades. She is so incredibly quick and crafty with her words. It will take somebody other than me to set her straight.

It doesn't take much for Mom to think that her Darling Little Princess GC (who just turned 50) is under threat and I don't know what it is I do that makes her think like that. Once it was something very trivial like taking her pontoon boat (with bro in law's blessings and permission) for a short ride, all within sight.

The secret move didn't happen. Another high school chum also coming from an abusive home talked me out of it. Also Asperger's syndrome wasn't on the medical radar at the time. Because of its co-morbid complex partial seizures, I could never hold a job anyway. Meanwhile all 3 of my siblings achieved the American Dream without any struggle and all make more than $500K a year. In the end they'll bury me in a pauper's grave.

And no, none of Mom's actions add up whatsoever than her perception her Darling Little Princess GC was under threat.

Last year I did write Mom a letter addressing all the unfairness, including adding that "it is not important we even be friends". To this day I am the only of her children with whom she still fights and bickers. This will be touched in another thread.

Maybe I'll find it in me to forgive her some day but first I wish there was a way to make her wake up and see what damage she has done. I know it's wishful thinking.
 
KwanYingirl,

Your statement adds more validation to what I knew was right all along and how Mom's actions made Hitler look absolutely angelic -LOL.

I have not been back to that little mining town in years but I do know Sven still lives there. Next time I'm through there, I will look him up. Unfortunately he has no Facebook or any other social media account that I know of.

I'm still working through it all and still dealing with this cruelest decision of hers. I don't believe I will ever come to understand, let alone make any sense of it: why?
 
I don't believe I will ever come to understand, let alone make any sense of it: why?
Because you can't make sense out of non-sense. When that 'feeling' of injustice comes over me, when I try to process this stuff, I simply repeat this to myself. There are a few youtube videos out there of people being actively scapegoated. It helped me tons to see the idiocy of their repeated attacks as well as the idiocy (sorry) of repeated attempts by the scapegoat to be understood. :banghead::banghead::banghead::banghead:

My need to be understood fed into the dynamic (in my case). I did work to let go of that need.

This is a video of a father narc attempting to scapegoat his son. I like this video because the father keeps trying to draw in the son, and then attempts to enlist the support of the mother and the mother won't have it. I like her boundaries. I am posting the video in the hopes that you can see from the 'outside' in that these types just don't make sense at all. You can't make sense of out non-sense. Don't bother trying is my suggestion.

 
Shimmerz,

Wow! The father in your flick is quite a bit like my mother in my own experiences. She loves loves LOVES that kind of BS drama. I see myself in the young man trying in vain to be civil and speaking in his defense but the episode only continues to escalate, so futile, so wasteful, so stupid. I lived with it and dealt with it every day. Yet giving her the silent treatment would tear her soul apart. Dad did that a lot to her and I can see why. Mom never made that connection and she never will either after all this time on the Argument Merry-Go-Round.

I can now see why my parents argued so much and I even recognized in your flick my own mother's "baits" when she'd lure Dad into something, especially if he didn't do anything to set her off.

This is the part where she could have been a high end lawyer considering her intelligence, her way with the spoken word, and her passion for heated arguments which I hate like poison for their futility. So why didn't she go on to be a lawyer? She could have been paid astronomical sums to argue and maybe I wouldn't have ended up being her scapegoat.

Yes, I recognize some of my mother's patterns. Now when she starts up and I catch on, I just say: "I don't know what to say". If she gets insistent, I just say: "This conversation is over", and I walk away even if it means leaving the venue for some time.

So much wasted energy, so much futility trying to make her see my side... This is just part of how and why I was raised on her sugar coated lies. Rule #1: Mom is ALWAYS right. Rule #2: If Mom is wrong, refer to Rule #1. My response? "Call it what you want to call it, I won't argue."

Sorry I couldn't watch it all. It's too upsetting especially with all my memories of her baseless accusations when she'd be like that, but it has armed me with my own counter moves even if ends up in her swallowing her defeat by crying and wailing and banging her fists on the nearest piece of furniture in some toddler-like tantrum. Inevitably back home, my Hero / Auxiliary Parent brother would swoop in and act on her behalf.

Mom has always picked her moments craftily for those doses of pointless drama at my expense.

On the plus, I recognize it now and try to nip it in the bud.

Shimmerz, is that what living with a narcissist is?
 
Shimmerz, is that what living with a narcissist is?
Sorry Escape, I missed this posting somehow. Yes, that is what living with a narcissist is. It may be different things but the end feeling, I think is the same. Never understanding what is going on, constantly fending off attacks, never feeling like we are standing on solid grounding. :hug::hug:

I just wanted to say as well that I could tell from your other posts that you were dealing with a narcissist. The 'all over the place', 'scattered stories', that's narcissist stuff. People kinda look at these stories as a 'huh????' because they make no sense -- which they don't. The narc likes it that way. So in order to get out of this try and get out of the story if you can. (just my opinion). Try to focus more on educating yourself on this stuff and figuring out an escape plan.
 
shimmerz,

Confirmed, confirmed, confirmed!

Now I know why Dad was the way he was with Mom during all their time together. Dad had been applying his own brand of anti-narc! Now I know to pick up dad's torch, develop it more, and apply upon my still-living mother. LOL

R.I.P. Dad, and TYVM for the great lessons.
 
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