"Life is not the sum of what we have been, but what we yearn to be." – Jose Ortega y Gasset

Recently someone left a comment saying I need to post more. I'm here today to explain why I don't. Not that anyone needs the explanation, but I need to get it out.

I don't post because it will always be the same thing. I'll always be hiding the truth. I don't post because what I really want need to say is not something that anyone wants to hear. I don't post because I'm lost and I don't know if I can ever be found.

I have wished, more often than I can count, to somehow come to an end. I won't take my own life only because it voids life insurance policies. I often wish that the steel a truck is hauling would break loose and crash through the windshield and kill me, or that a truck would run a red light and kill me. I could never take my own life, but I often wish to have it taken for me.

All I really want is for someone to notice, all on their own, that I've changed. It's nobody's responsibility though. Nobody HAS to notice that I don't wear make up or big boots anymore. Nobody HAS to notice that I'm an empty shell. Nobody HAS to notice that I'm not actually as happy as I act, but I still wish that someone would.

I just want to be noticed.

I feel like I've been disappearing around the edges for years now and I've just woken up to find I'm invisible. That hurts. I don't feel like anyone really sees me or really cares about me. I feel this way everywhere; work, home, with family, with friends... everywhere.

I try to force people to notice me but it just (understandably) drives them away. This past weekend, at a girls weekend with my in-laws, I realized that I was a 3rd wheel and that nobody really cared if I was there or not. I kept telling myself to just shut up because nobody really cared about what I was talking about. I tried to initiate conversations, and the whole time I felt like I was coming in and out of focus to them. For example, when I was talking about something my conversational partner cared about or enjoyed I felt like they could see me and hear me, but when talking about something I alone enjoy (like hockey) I felt invisible. I didn't feel like I fit in, but I still tried to be present.

I send birthday cards because I don't receive them. I send Valentines Day cards because I don't receive them. J has no idea that sending me a $20 bouquet of flowers would literally save me. How do you tell your husband "I really need you to send me flowers so I know you love me"? How?  How do you find proof that someone really does care about you when you are the way your are told or shown isn't a way that makes sense to me?

How do you fight tears every day at work so nobody asks what's wrong because you KNOW they don't want to hear the answer? How do you get out of bed everyday and put on your cheery phone voice so your customers don't think you're a psychopath? When does the burden become too much? When do you reach your limit?

I never know what will send me into a crying jag. I never know what will break me. Last night it was that the dimensions of the bed and dresser might not work in the guest bedroom layout I designed. How do I explain that to J? He tried so hard to make it better by measuring the room and saying that it will work, but it didn't feel like enough for myself.

This is a problem that no anti-depressant can fix. This will take time and work, but maybe writing this out is the first step.