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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