It happens to just about everyone. And if it hasn't happened to you--welcome to Earth, extraterrestrial life form, or soulless automaton come to crush our race into oblivion! Also, you might be a sociopath. But if you're a sane human, whether completely or partially, the following scenario should sound depressingly familiar: one day, you're at the peak of health, vitality, freshness, love of life--and the next morning, you've crash-landed in a poisonous tar pit of self-pity and despair. No one loves you. You're fat. You're also ugly and stupid. After adding lonely and misunderstood to the list, you top it off with: invisible.
Invisibility is the worst. Have you ever taken one of those quizzes titled "What Superpower Fits You Best" or something similar? I have, multiple times, but only in the hope of getting a different result. My efforts were fruitless. 100% of the time: "Invisibility." That's pretty much like getting the result: "No One Cares About You. No, Really, I'm Serious. You Might as Well Not Exist." What I would like to know is: since when has this become a viable superpower?!
Real invisibility is not the (admittedly awesome) power to turn yourself into a transparent wielder of doom to the guilty and justice to their helpless victims. It's nothing super, heroic, or pleasant in any way, come to think of it. It's merely the ability to slide through life leaving it unchanged behind you. And really, where's the fun in that? For must of us "invisibles," though, this lifestyle isn't a voluntary choice--it's the effect of our relationships, experiences, phobias, and maybe even hereditary traits. It's not something that's easy to brush off--I've tried. However, invisibility is remarkably easy to shove beneath a rug. Some of these rugs are woven from cynicism, timidity, over-confidence, etc., or maybe a fun combination (try hanging around an over-confident cynic--that's really fun). Well, spring cleaning time may have come and gone, but it's never too late to shake out those rugs!
I know I'm not qualified to give advice, what with my lifetime membership in "Invisibles Anonymous" and all. But I can say that an environment in which you are invisible is a toxic environment. We all have a right to be heard, appreciated, and valued, which is one of the reasons I'm firing up this rusty blog again. Internalizing bitterness is like swallowing acid--an experience so unpleasant in the physical sense, why would anyone want to go through it emotionally?
And so, elucidated by that (possibly unnecessary, but still wonderfully refreshing) monologue, this is one of my reasons for blogging: the quest for my own voice. And if I can begin that quest, pretty much anyone can.
