I always knew something wasn’t right. I was an outsider, never included, forgotten about, left out. I always felt different, like I didn’t belong, in a f*mily that was wrapped up in dysfunction, fantasy, and disease.
Delving deep into healing and digging out old roots has been a huge epiphany.
Discovering patterns of behaviour and uncovering truths.
After I woke up, they couldn’t get me back under their control. So they ditched me without a second thought. Then somehow blamed me for all of it.
They thought I couldn’t think for myself, they thought they had me in their twisted game for life.
Taking their garbage forever and as always, to divert from truth.
Their opinion of me so low, they thought that even after everything that was said and done, and the abuse hurled at me, that I would still go back to my role as their garbage can.
I’ve now shed my scapegoat role. I’m done with it.
I embrace my black sheep status with pride.
I’d rather stand alone and be strong and happy, than be part of a sick, dark herd.
I’ve done the work and there is no going back. Not ever.
I know they can’t believe that I would ever come to any conclusion on my own and they blame others for “influencing” me. (lol)
Every black sheep I know has a similar story. And every black sheep has stood up and said enough’s enough.
We are strong, and we are good.
We embrace our status like a badge of honour.
We’ve been through the shit.
We stand together.