I Am Invisible

I Am Invisible

As I sit here writing this blog post, I realize its sole purpose is to reach certain people. Like every other post, I want to communicate with the people I love, my family. Actually, what I really want is to grab them by the shoulders and shake them hard as I scream “listen to me!”

I’ve always been ignored and overlooked by my family, I’m used to it. But I’ve had an important message for almost four years now. I was WRONGED. My ex-husband tried to murder me for christ’s sake. I NEEDED SUPPORT, but instead I was betrayed and abandoned by the people who should have protected me unconditionally. They know they failed. And because they know it they pretend I don’t exist. First of all, its what they always did and secondly because its the coward’s way out. It’s much easier pretending I don’t exist than it is facing the ugly truth about their behavior.

I am VERY ANGRY. I feel my anger is justified. I NEED to be heard, to be validated. My family may disagree with everything I have to say, but if they loved me they would allow me to express my feelings and acknowledge my pain. It’s real. I am real. And I am good. And I am important. And my feelings matter. At least to me, they matter.

I always felt invisible growing up in my large family. And that is the one thing they’ve validated for me, my lack of importance. So as I prepare for a future alone, I can’t conceal my bitterness and resentment toward every single one of them. They’ll continue to write their insipid blogs about puppies and pretend they’re genuinely kind and empathetic people while I continue to eat up space in their heads. And long after we’re all gone my words will lie here dormant for future generations to find and process and¬†hopefully understand.

My sister once asked me why I was so full of rage. It’s simple. Without rage, I would drown in despair.


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