Billiard Ball Blame

The trajectories of blame in families--and what to do when it lands on you

Dear Kathy,

My estranged son has recently opened a door to my husband, but remains closed to me. It feels deeply unfair. Currently, my son blames me, my husband acts neutral, and I feel like the therapist is siding with them. I did the “heavy lifting” for years, but now I’m being cast as the scapegoat. I am angry and bereft—how do I stop being the only one carrying the blame of this family’s troubles? — Angry, Blamed, and Penalized

Dear Angry, Blamed, and Penalized,

Thank you for writing to me about your frustrating and uncomfortable position. When I tried to picture your problem, the image of a billiard table with balls rolling and hitting each other came to mind. The blame in your family seems to land in one place for a while, then the ball rolls on to hit the next family member.

Your son blames you; you blame your son, your husband, and your therapist; your husband tries not to blame anyone but ends up pushing you away by not supporting you. As the blame rolls on, no communication is effective and no progress toward reconnecting is made.

In billiards, there is a move called a combination shot. One ball hits a second ball, which then strikes a third. The middle ball barely moves, but it is the essential conduit that allows the force to reach the final target. In your family, your husband is acting as that middle ball. By playing “Switzerland,” he isn’t stopping the momentum of your son’s blame; he is simply letting it pass through him until it strikes you. He feels “neutral” because he isn’t moving, but you feel the full “smack” of the impact.

Psychoanalysts Jill and David Scharff describe this phenomenon:

“In the family system, when one person cannot contain their own pain, they ‘place’ it into another. The recipient then carries the ‘unbearable’ for the whole system, becoming the target of the feelings the others are trying to escape.”

Why Do We Blame?

The urge to blame is, at its core, a desperate wish for relief. When the weight of responsibility for the family’s pain feels too heavy to carry, we reflexively shove that “bad feeling” away. This is a habit we likely learned in our own families of origin.

We do this because we are looking for a temporary discharge of bad feelings. Holding that feeling—like the guilt of feeling at fault or the shame of having an estranged child—creates physical and emotional tension that feels deeply uncomfortable. Blaming is an evasive move that temporarily allows us to transfer that discomfort from “inside” to “outside.” In the moment of the “smack”—when we point the finger—our nervous system experiences a deceptive burst of relief. We have effectively exported our internal heat to someone else’s fireplace.

Beneath this urge lies a primal, often unconscious belief: that responsibility is a finite, toxic substance that must be held by someone, just not “me.” We imagine that by making someone else the villain, we can reclaim our own status as the “hero” or the “victim,” ridding ourselves of the internal burn of shame.

But this relief is an illusion. Because we are all part of the same system, the “bad feeling” doesn’t actually leave the room; it just changes hands. The reason blame never works for long is that it requires a constant “re-upping.” The moment the other person refuses to hold the blame—or sends it back—the “bad feeling” rushes back toward us, and the ricochet begins all over again.

The tragedy for the family system is that we mistake this moment of relief for a solution. In reality, we are just passing a “hot coal” back and forth. No one is putting the fire out; we are just making sure our own hands aren’t the ones burning right now. Blame appears to keep the system from exploding, but it actually prevents it from ever healing. We stay busy with the repercussions of the ricochet rather than facing our difficulties.

I can understand the urge to blame in order to avoid feeling like you have caused pain. Unfortunately, with the complexities of being human, it is inevitable that we will both cause and feel pain. When you feel hurt, it can be tricky to respond in a way that leads toward repair. Blaming is the opposite of repair—communication, compassion, and true forgiveness are far more likely to facilitate family connection.

How to Slow the Ricochet

If your family has coped primarily by blaming, it would help to develop a way to resolve problems through understanding.

• Practice Self-Observation: Understand that blaming is a knee-jerk reaction to a bad feeling. Take a pause when you feel the impulse to blame and see if you can take responsibility for your part without pointing fingers.

• Pay Attention to Your Discomfort: Look inside to see why the feelings you are having are so uncomfortable that you feel the need to “deposit” them into a family member just to get rid of them.

• Wait Until the Table is Clear: Don’t react in the heat of the “smack.” Wait until later to talk about what happened so your thoughts and feelings can be sorted out.

• Ask for Understanding: Tell your family you are trying to understand things differently and may make blunders.

• The “Side Table” Practice: Ask a trusted friend to practice listening with you. Have them tell you something they want you to understand, then say it back to them. Ask, “Did I get it?” Listening is the active opposite of blaming.

• Be Compassionate: It takes time, patience, and care to change the dynamics of a family. Be gentle with your family members and yourself.

Invite the “System” to Help You

Once the “table is clear” and your own feelings have settled, move from defensiveness to systemic leadership. This involves speaking directly to the other “players” about the roles everyone is stuck in.

• To your Husband: You might say, “I know you are trying to be the ‘good guy’ to keep the door open with our son, but when you stay neutral while he blames me, it leaves me with the weight of our family’s troubles. Could you sometimes be a bridge, not just neutral? Can we find a way for you to support his reconnection without me having to be the bad guy?”

• To your Therapist: Tell your therapist how it feels in session: “I feel the blame placed squarely on me in this room. Please help us look at the dynamics of our whole family, so I don’t end up as the only landing spot for the bad feelings we are all struggling with.”

By doing this, you aren’t “blaming back.” You are pointing out the blaming pattern and asking others to help you change it.

Dear Angry, Blamed, and Penalized,

You are in a tough spot where you keep feeling smacked by the momentum of everyone else’s pain. I hope you find the voice to speak to your husband and your therapist about their roles on the billiard table—pointing out how “neutrality” can sometimes act as the very cushion that allows the blame to ricochet back to you.

By naming these cycles of blaming, your family can begin to shift away from this hurtful dynamic toward one of deeper understanding. By choosing to hold your own feelings rather than striking back, you begin shifting the flow. It is quiet, difficult work, but it is the way to stop the “smack” and bring this system from constant ricochet to a pace where you can begin to see each other with more clarity.

Take care of yourself as you find your footing.

Best,

Kathy

Please contact me in the Comments section or email me: ksinsheimermft@gmail.com

This is column # 24