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Ever Feel Like You Are Invisible In A Room Filled With People?

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Well that's how I feel with my family. I've battled depression for about 15 years, though I knew years before that something wasn't right. I remember the first time I felt angry and depressed: I was 7 years old. No one helped me then.

It all started when I was 15 and my parents were having some marital problems. I am the middle of 3 children so of course I get the stigma that comes with being a middle child: the scapegoat of the family. I learned several years later while in college that the description of that was me. My mother thought it would be best if I went to therapy as well. She noticed that I was distant. Of course I was distant: I had just spent my summer in Europe with my oldest sibling (you are probably thinking that it was a blast) but in reality, it was hell. My sibling abandoned me in Europe, literally for about 3 days. I had no money, my passport was hidden and every souvenir that I managed to buy were taken away from me. I came back to the States a completely different person. I had lost about 20 lbs (I have a small frame so it was noticeable), and almost all of the money that my father had given to me was untouched. To this day I never know why my sibling did this to me. I had bought myself a journal and wrote about it while I was in Europe. I saved it and later burnt it as part my "letting go" stage. Back to my therapy sessions courtesy of my mother: I never spoke. It took me 3 sessions to finally speak about the events that took place in Europe just months before. It angered me that my parents did nothing to my sibling for what I went through. Basically a slap on the hand is what my sibling got. I was angry because my mother had favorites and I wasn't one of them. I was angry because no matter how many chores I did around the house, it wouldn't be good enough for my mother to see me.

I spent 2 years in therapy and at 17, I took an overdose. My younger sibling (whom I got along with at the time) called my best friend who hurried over. I remember that I was kneeling in front of a Bible, completely out of it. My parents were in the back having a bbq so they didn't notice what was going on. A few minutes later, I was having my stomach pumped as my mother stood by and watched. I was admitted into a psych ward for 3 days while my Psychiatrist released me. Do you know that while I was lying by a string of hope, my older sibling told my mother "she just did this for attention mom." I was screaming for someone, anyone to hear me out, to calm me down, to wipe my tears away. But no one came. I felt like I had no choice.

My family visited me while I was "locked away" as they said. I remember my father asking me why I did it. I had to explain to him why and he still didn't get it; he thought it was all just a show. When my mother signed the release forms a few days later, she got angry with me on the ride home. I didn't feel safe and my tears started again. I came home and locked myself in my room. Each and every time I was in there they would ask me why I was crying - they just didn't understand.

At that point, I was very distant with my older sibling, even though we lived in the same house. I remember waking up and getting ready for school and my sibling would just start talking smack, out loud. Saying that I was a victim, oh poor me, no one loves me, etc. My mother stood by and did nothing. Each and every night my family would have dinner together: a nice happy family of 4. I was completely left out. I didn't exist there. How could I sit at the same table with people who could care less about how I was feeling? They never once offered to come to therapy with me to figure things out.

Soon after I started college and had started seeing another therapist. My 1st year at college was horrible; my grades were suffering and it was because of what I had to deal with at home. I couldn't stay at school late to study because somehow they got it into their minds that I was up to no good. Clearly the older one said that. Everything that my older sibling said, they believed and I was wrong. At one therapy session my mother came along on the advise of my therapist and you know what my mother said to her? She said "I hope you can fix her because I am tired of this." I was sitting beside her. How could she say that about me? She gave me life, she knew that I was suffering and did nothing about it. I knew then that I had to leave so I ran away, but not before I wrote my parents a long letter explaining why. It still hurts just trying to type this. The tears have started up again...

When I had packed up the last of my belongings, I left the letter in their room. I also wrote one for my aunt and uncle whom I love very much. Well I guess it wasn't enough that I was leaving because my siblings, both of them, got together and laughed at me. They went so far as to snatch the letter that I left for my parents and decided to read it out loud. My youngest sibling was 15 while the oldest was 25. I walked out of the front door and didn't come back until after college.

My father didn't speak to me for 6 months because of that. My mother was calling me at work and crying, asking me why I left. They both knew but didn't want to admit it. I remember my therapist telling my mother that she and my father were like the 3 monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

My grades improved dramatically and I was on the Dean's List my 2nd year of college.

Let's fast forward a bit. After I graduated college, my oldest sibling and I were getting along, for the most part; well it felt more like a show for my parents than something genuine. I had moved back home because my older sibling moved out and the youngest started college, so it was just me. At first I was thrilled to finally get some alone time with my parents and try to explain to them how I felt than to how I felt in high school. They wanted to hear nothing; my "accident" never happened according to my mother. Again, I was shut out and ignored.

When my youngest sibling was about to graduate college, the problems started again but the youngest this time. Same problems, just a different sibling. By that time, I had saved enough to buy my 1st home! YEY FOR ME! MY family didn't care one way or another. I heard comments like "you're an *****, you should have bought something else; I don't like it; you're a failure because you couldn't afford a real house, etc."

Lets fast forward to the present. My older sibling is now married with 2 beautiful children, whom I just adore very much. The youngest decided to start graduate school and therefore lives with my parents. I only get along remotely with the older one because I want to see my nephews. The youngest one, forget it. According to the youngest, I am a failure because I couldn't get into law school; I'm a loser because every man I have dated has used me; I'm pathetic and a victim.

Yes people, that's my family in nutshell. I detest both siblings but more so now is the youngest one. I still get the occasional talk as to why I didn't go to a family event, why am I not being with the family, etc. I'll tell you why, because I'm sick and tired of being a nobody to them. I'm sick and tired of being at a family function and not even exist to anyone. I'm sick and tired of always being blamed and not my siblings.

Sigh, no matter how much I want to tell them both to screw off, I can't manage to get the words out of my mouth without crying. As soon as I try, I feel myself getting shaky and my throat gets clogged up and the tears just begin. They have control over me; they laugh at me.

I don't belong in that family, even to this day I firmly believe that. I am 30 years old and I still feel like I am 15 again, sitting by myself in my room eating, being ignored.

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Hi and Welcome to DF liz2010

Family dynamics can cause such problems and I am sorry that you had such a hard time with your family and that you feel invisible. You have done so much and come so far, despite how they have made you feel and that shows strength.

You are definitely not invisible here at all.

Please make yourself feel at home.


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Hi Liz, wow, that's a very moving story. What a shame you had to suffer so much, and the people who were supposed to protect you failed you miserably. I really felt your frustration come through. Even though my childhood was not as traumatic as yours, I can relate when you say you felt invisible and nobody cared. And when I read the line at the end of your post "sitting by myself in my room eating, being ignored" a wave of numbness washed over me as I remember doing the exact same thing. You are definately not alone anymore, you have inspired me to keep going in my own battles, thank you. Much love, Jodie :)

Edited by jodeee6

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I am so sorry for what you experienced in your lifetime....You didn't deserve it. I am kind of at a loss for words...But I just wanted to say that I hope it gets better in any way possible really soon, and I hope this forum helps you.

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I just want to say thank you all for reading my story, for allowing me to breathe a small sigh of relief that it's finally out there.

I still battle with those demons (wait depression or my siblings!) everyday. No matter what kind of meds I am on or how many therapy sessions I go to, I can't help but feel that I am "broken." My personal relationships have suffered because of this. It's not right that one minute I'm angry and the next I'm apologizing like crazy only for the person to ignore me and when that happens, the depression appears.

I sometimes feel that even though I may live in a world where I wake up everyday feeling like the dark, rainy cloud that looms over me will not leave, I am the most loyal and loving person. I think that people take advantage of how you feel when you are down. I feel weak because I feel that someone is taking advantage of me and there's nothing I can do about it. Example: if I were in a relationship where I always paid and the guy didn't, no matter how much I hated him for that, I would still stay in the relationship. Why, well because I am in a weak moment and my emotions get the best of me; I'm afraid to leave because I fear that no one will love me like he did.

I cry and think of the past over and over again and when I get hurt, I can't move on. I need to feel loved; I need to have someone, anyone, apologize to me for what they have put me through or have done. Men, friends, and family take full advantage because I am at a low point. Every time I try to get up, I feel emotionally kicked in the stomach and I back down.

I wish I were Wonder Woman at times! She always has on her special armor and nothing can hurt her, physically and mentally. I want to get to a point where I can say "you hurt me in the past, but I forgive you because you can't hurt me anymore." But I can't. I can't forget the past; I can't let go of it. No matter how horrible it's been, it has shaped me into the woman that I am now. I can't run away from it, I have to learn to deal with it. I'm not asking for pity from those who hurt me because I don't want to be a victim anymore. I want them to know that what they did to me was wrong. Let's face it though, that would be living in a fantasy to get people to admit when they are wrong. I need to change myself because they will never change. No matter who went up to them, lets say Oprah, and made them read my story and know how much they hurt me, they would still turn around and deny it. They would say that what happened, happened and that I have to move on.

I need closure from it. I need my family to admit what they did was wrong and apologize. I need the man who I have been involved with for the past 5 years (yes and no commitment) to fess up to his mistakes, apologize and quit trying to turn them around and somehow put the blame on me.

I feel stuck in between the past and present, as if I were walking on glue and have no choice but to stay. I hope that maybe the glue will dry up so that I can break free and move on.

Is it too much to ask?

Edited by liz2010

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