why

do I feel suicidal every time I'm around my family? If I even speak to one of them, I find myself blurting out things like, "I may not be around much longer", "I can't take it any more". It's like I just can't hold it inside any longer - the pain of being unheard for my entire life. I keep saying it's as if I were bleeding to death alongside a road and nobody stopped to help me - that's what my family feels like. Only the bleeding is all internal, invisible (at least to them), and no one notices til it's too late. It reminds me of when I had gallstones and hadn't eaten for two weeks because of the pain and I had to harass the doctor to pay any attention to me because I 'looked too healthy'. Fuck. It was all I could do to not grab the asshole by the lapels and shake him.

"Look, I know I'm not as important as that heart attack you're dealing with down the hall," I said, "but I haven't eaten in two weeks and every time I eat there's this excruciating pain, unlike any pain I've ever had in my life. I know I look perfectly healthy, but I'm not - there's something wrong." The very first guy I saw at my first emergency room said something about, "Well, it could be gallstones, but you just don't fit the profile." Fuck. Why can't these idiots look past their stupid assumptions and see what's right in front of their noses?

I finally persuaded him to at least refer me for an ultrasound (what the fuck am I paying you assholes all this money for, anyway? Jesus fucking christ.) Sure enough, gallstones. Though there was a weird moment where the lab tech called another tech into the room to say, "Look, her liver's way up here!" And blah blah blah - I guess I was otherwise extremely healthy, and they'd never really seen a normal, healthy body before under their scans - most of the women who came in were 'fair, fat and forty', which is the standard profile for people who tend to get gallstones.

Anyway. The whole point is, nobody ever believed me. I was not a hypochondriac; I hardly ever came in at all, except for routine exams and pap smears. My so-called 'regular doctor' practically didn't know who I was, I came in so infrequently. And yet the one and only time I came in with a serious complaint, they treated me like - I don't know what. Like I didn't know what was going on with my own fucking body. Jesus. The hubris, the arrogance. I've encountered this so many times now with the medical profession, whether standard or alternative, and with dentists as well. In fact anybody with any 'credentials' seems to be almost entirely about 'proving' themselves, something to do with ego. Truly, nobody ever grows up. We're all just children in oversized bodies. Sigh.

And my family is the same: I don't know if it's because of all my years of silence and only speaking up now, but it's as if I've lied, or cheated, or - I don't know what. They just won't listen, won't hear. I've read recently that people resist having their motives questioned, their - whatsit - morality? or something - impugned. Their 'honor', maybe? Dunno. Seems like truth doesn't matter to most people at all - it's all about image, the mirage, the projection. Like the Wizard of Oz, once again. All smoke and mirrors, no substance. Fuck.

It's that invisible feeling - like I don't matter, like nobody cares, nobody hears. No matter how loud I shout or scream, all they hear is that I'm being inconvenient for them. They don't appear to hear, see or otherwise perceive the pain. They're like that 'deaf, dumb and blind kid,' only they don't even play a mean pinball... (song reference.)

Feeling like you don't exist. Like the pain inside of you will just explode - like you'll explode - your mind, your body. Like a gasket, or some gizmo that's been under pressure too long and has worn out. Something just gives out - heart, mind, soul, spirit. Something.

But I don't want to go. I don't want to die. I just don't want to deal with them any more. I want them to go away and leave me alone. The problem is, they're only too happy to do just that. In fact it's just more of the same - I can't even appreciate it as the cessation of an unpleasant noise because there never was any noise to begin with - just the deafening SILENCE.

Silence. Fucking SILENCE. By speaking my truth, I've alienated them all - they've closed ranks, shut me out, now more than ever. But it's not the blessed relief of silence after too much noise - no, it's the further pain of being totally ignored on top of never having been taken seriously in the first place.

If anybody from the family ever reads this and cares enough to try to understand, THIS is where the pain comes from: The silence of having nobody to care, nobody to listen. Having everybody walk away and turn their backs on you every single time you express any kind of emotional need that makes them the least bit uncomfortable.
***

From an article on the powerful long-term effects of prolonged emotional invalidation:

"We regularly invalidate others because we ourselves were, and are often invalidated, so it has become habitual. Below are a few of the many ways we are invalidated:

• We are told we shouldn't feel the way we feel
• We are dictated not to feel the way we feel
• We are told we are too sensitive, too "dramatic"
• We are ignored
• We are judged
• We are led to believe there is something wrong with us for feeling how we feel

You Can't Heal an Emotional Wound with Logic
People with high IQ and low EQ tend to use logic to address emotional issues. They may say, "You are not being rational. There is no reason for you to feel the way you do. Let's look at the facts." Businesses, for example, and "professionals" are traditionally out of balance towards logic at the expense of emotions. This tends to alienate people and diminish their potential.

Actually, all emotions do have a basis in reality, and feelings are facts, fleeting though they may be. But trying to dress an emotional wound, with logic tends to either confuse, sadden or infuriate a person. Or it may eventually isolate them from their feelings, with a resulting loss of major part of their natural intelligence."

***
The culture at large is complicit in these games of dominance and manipulation: A culture that believes in 'might makes right' and 'survival of the fittest' isn't going to have much compassion for those who lose at the game of life. Contempt is what you'll get, adding insult to the injury of already having 'failed' in the eyes of so many who look on and judge those of us who, by nature, inclination, temperament, circumstance or some combination thereof, are not suited to 'winning' the so-called game. Particularly if you're a woman, where, in this 'game', you're not even a player, not even on a 'team' at all, but are instead the ultimate object of derision: The ball. To be kicked and abused at will. Merely a means by which the 'teams' compete with one another. You (the woman) in and of yourself have no intrinsic value or merit other than as a means of manipulating the other guy into feeling more or less superior.

The enforcers in this game are the Pshrynks. They take the role of referee, and like all refs, are never truly impartial - they have their favorites, preferences, biases. They see what they want to see. More ideas on how we are blamed for 'playing the victim' by all parties: Beyond the Psychiatric Box.

The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.