My family doesn't "fit" and I'm so confused

[lonelytourist]

Apologies for the essay. I think I just need to word-vomit this all out to help destress my brain.

Recently, I've seen the "golden child vs scapegoat" family dynamic terminology floating around my online spaces, and it had me curious. I thought I had a pretty decent understanding of these terms, particularly as they apply to my own family-of-origin situation, but now I feel at a loss. All the Googling I've done keeps coming up with articles, websites, etc about how the GC and scapegoat children stem from narcissisticly disordered families, but I can't find anything discussing how these two roles operate in non-NPD families. All the research on dysfunctional family dynamics, even on OOTS (https://www.outofthestorm.website/dysfunctional-family-roles), further break down each role, how they are formed, and how they operate, but my family doesn't "fit" any model.

Logically, I know each situation is unique and no situation is going to fit perfectly into any model, but as I'm continuing my healing journey, I want to make it fit, because then my abuse would make sense. My Trauma-Brain keeps thinking that if my family fits into these boxes, then what I experienced as a child is real; conversely, if we don't fit, then Trauma-Brain overheats and starts fizzing and spazzing like a robot that's just been asked to contemplate its own existence.

Neither of my parents fit the NPD diagnosis traditionally described in GC/scapegoat scenarios. My mom does exhibit some traits, but these are more-so explained by her undiagnosed anxiety and self-esteem issues than NPD. My sister has always been the GC, and a lot of my little-t-rauma stems from the way she treated me and the way my parents always favored her over protecting me. She does fit this role, but not as a result of an NPD-parent projection, necessarily.

What's really tripping me up more than anything, however, is my brother. My big-T-rauma occurred at his hands. He is definitely a narcissist (undiagnosed because he doesn't think he has a problem, of course). However, he was also the scapegoat growing up, often because of his narcissism. After he left home, my mother shifted the scapegoat role onto me, even referring to me as "Little [Brother's Name]." My brother was not a rebel or "weakling" or anything, he was just hyperintelligent, and he knew it. He used it as an excuse to be cruel towards anyone he deemed beneath him, and I just happened to be close enough in proximity and ignored enough by my parents to be his perfect victim.

But, if all the literature about dysfunctional families is correct, we don't fit the mold. My brother/primary abuser doesn't fit the mold. And weirdly, he isn't the one I'm most mad at (yet). My healing journey started because I suddenly felt so much rage towards my parents and my GC sister--not fully for the neglect/emotional abuse they inflicted, but because none of them protected me from my brother. My existence mattered so little to them that not only did they allow the abuse from my brother to occur, but they then had the audacity to name me as his successor. They replaced me with him in the scapegoat role as if we were in any way interchangeable.

I just...I can't make sense of any of it anymore. I want so desperately to understand why what happened to me happened, but no matter how much I try to explain it all away, there is no good reason. Nothing and no one can give me an explanation as to why he s****lly abused me. I just want to understand and I can't and I hate that I can't...

[Not Alone]

I'm so sorry that your brother did that to you and that no one protected you. Trust your perception of your family members. It doesn't matter if they don't fit perfectly into the scapegoat/golden child boxes. You know how your family (dis)functioned.

[Armee]

I'm really sorry that you were hurt so badly by your brother and it must be so confusing to not have a clear label to put on the family dynamics. I know I often have an easier time feeling anger towards people who did not protect me from abuse than toward the person who abused. I don't know fully why.

The dynamics can be present in non-NPD families...families with BPD or alcoholism to name a couple. It's easier if you can read a description and say "yes that's my family and that's what happened to me and that is why I have the struggles I have." But, if I may...? What you shared is enough. It's enough to explain the pain, the trauma, whatever you are going through now? To have grown up being s*****ly abused by a family member, to have grown up not protected, and to have been called the very name of your abuser hits like a punch to the gut. That is horrible. I'm sorry all that happened to you. I know why it matters to you to have a label for what happened, but you don't need to fit a box to deserve so much empathy and a right to whatever you need to heal from such wounds and trauma.

[bluepalm]

Hi lonelytourist, I agree with Armee - What you shared is enough. It's enough to explain the pain, the trauma, whatever you are going through now?

I can understand your distress at not recognising a classic model into which to fit your family to explain what happened to you. I have spent a lifetime trying to understand why my family acted as they did. For most of that time I wandered in the darkness, with no internet or even books to help me. I've now come to the conclusion that ultimately it doesn't matter why what happened happened. It's enough that my mind, body and soul know how it felt then and how I suffer now as a result. It's enough to know that my rage at family members is real and needs expression and resolution. It's enough to know that my grief needs an outlet here and now - for whatever reason my family was so destructive to me. This knowledge has not stopped me from wondering about my family dynamics, but it's become more of a puzzle that I can dwell on at some distance from myself emotionally. I hope my experience gives you a little hope that your current distress may lessen in time.

[tea-the-artist]

hey lonelytourist, i'm fourthing everything that's been said. the pain is absolutely real, for the people who were supposed to protect you to have the nerve to name you like that. that's really terrible, and you are totally right. there is no good reason for the abuse and neglect and it wasn't fair for you to experience this. big compassionate hugs to you if you'd like i feel you very much on needing to connect dots to make sense of trauma. occasionally it feels ok to know that there is no valid excuse or reason for abuse, and thus i deserve to know that my trauma and pain from that trauma is real and valid.

[woodsgnome]

I've had the same sort of confusion, shock, and ongoing distress about traumas that happened to me along the way. Any hope of doing so has been crushed by extra layers of grief when it becomes obvious there are no certain answers.

This became obvious to me the more I tried, as the hope of ever understanding what happened quickly dissipated into blobs of grief.

I've amazed myself at how long it's taken, but sure answers have never materialized. The best I can come up with -- it was senseless then, it is now, and the 'why' for all of it only makes me feel worse. Recently I came up with a symbolic metaphor that helped a little -- in thinking about the abusers (not all of them were from FOO), I picture them as having gotten on the wrong bus, and I've finally reached the point where I exit from their ride.

Maybe there more concret answers that could be dug out, but I've dropped most of the wondering about them and tried to focus on moving forward within my own life as a survivor. I have the advantage of having set boundaries long ago, and that's helped the most. I'm still picking up the pieces, but having decided I'll never figure out their stuff is an insolvable problem. For the most part, my boundaries have worked, though it's taken some continued vigilance to feel safe.

That's easy, almost trite to say, given that I'm still the one bearing the pain, inner and outer. What I can and mostly can't do in regards to their actions are just too burdensome anymore. So I concentrate on re-building my own life, in the process learning how to diminish the pain -- and heartbreak -- as best I can.

I know this might not be a suitable sort of answer. But here, as in so much of this tangled mess labelled as c-PTSD, we're lost in a land we didn't understand in retrospect, but find ways to feel safe going forward.