Invisibility

Invisibility is one of my superpowers.  My friends called me out on it in college - I could be at a party and no one would remember seeing me there.  Good thing I never needed an alibi...  They asked me how I did that - and I wasn't sure then, but I know now.  Part of the answer is that I'm an introvert - a loud introvert, but still an introvert.  Parties with lots of people I don't know are anathema to me, and I tend to get lost in my head a good bit.  But a bigger part is that I'd learned early that standing out, being visible to Nparents was NOT in my best interests.  If I wanted any sort of life at all, any space to think and dream, I had to stay under their radar.  I watched and waited for the chance to escape their constant needs - I hid in the attic, in an old barn near our house, in trees, in fields, in neighbor's houses, by the river, wherever I could.  I hid in books, in schoolwork, in school activities.  And finally, I could escape in plain site.  They just did not see me.  It's a truly amazing superpower, but one I need to get rid of...  The invisibility cloak is no longer working in my favor.

This skill is more easily used with N's - they tend not to see anyone else unless they need Nsupply.  And with so many sibs, Nsupply was always close at hand - one child gone missing wasn't terribly noticeable.  After the Nparents separated in their 80's, Danielle and I were the only two people who talked to Nfather - he'd burned many a bridge...  At one point, I convinced my brothers that they should visit Nfather.  I went with them and the visit ranks as one of the most uncomfortable hours of my life - Nfather spent the entire hour recounting all the wrongs done to him in his life.  Honestly, he barely breathed between accusations.  I'd promised my brothers that we'd leave in an hour, so we got up and said our goodbyes at that point.  The next day, Nfather called me and told me that my brothers had visited him and that they hadn't spoken to him at all in the time they'd been there.  I told him that he hadn't shut up the whole time they'd been there and he asked me how I could possibly know that.  I reminded him that I'd been there as well and he said that that wasn't true, that I hadn't been there and why was I lying about that?  Honestly.  (I'd had him checked for dementia shortly before this, so it can't be blamed on that...) 

There were lots of other incidents in which I attempted to call him to accountability (see previous post) and he'd claim that I couldn't know something because I hadn't been there - and I had been there.   I once had an argument with Nmother in which she said, as a justification for not behaving in an equitable way, "I just didn't even think of you, (Pearl)." 

And such is the life of the Lost Child.  I learned not to ask for anything, not to demand acknowledgement even of my presence.  I've been working on this for a while- staying completely present, engaging in a wholehearted (and whole brained) way.  But old habits are hard to break - and I think this may be one reason that no one (except one dear friend and her granddaughter who do not go to my previous church) came to visit when I was home-bound.  I tend to do things behind the scenes (as introverts do), I've always helped out in small ways - cleaning up after dinners, coffee time, etc., serving on committees and doing work that others don't usually acknowledge - designing signs, business cards, flyers, designing and printing event  tickets, handing out maps, writing up the minutes, selecting tables and chairs, collecting money for events, making huge batches of food for events., etc.  Not exactly things that get one noticed, but things that needed doing.  But I think it's made me invisible there.  The Help.  Aack.