My NOT Family

I heard the garage door open, dread filled the pit of my stomach. Why they left me behind, I will never understand.

I have never fit in, anywhere. My school, church, pom poms, baton, softball, you name it. I’ve always been…an outcast, the weird one. But being rejected and alienated by your own family is the worst feeling in the world.

I do not give up, I fight. I am a survivor. I am not easily knocked down. However, if things pile up and everything seems to go wrong all at once, I will temporarily, for a very short time, get knocked down. I always get back up. I don’t quit, I know I am worth something and will change any bad situation I am in, to better myself and my life.

At the age of seventeen, I tried to commit suicide. I could not take the pain, the fear of facing life alone. I felt lost, abandoned, marooned. I had no support from family or friends. No one understood me. I was the black sheep. Different. After surviving the attempt on my life, I realized I am here for a reason. I am meant to live.

When I was eighteen years old, I wanted to hide away. I was invisible to the world anyway. I’ve always fended for myself, went through life, all alone. As a child, I lived with terrible depression. I tried reaching out to my mother, who told me over and over, that I can tell her anything. Only to be told I was overreacting. My feelings were invalidated. I was being a baby. At that moment, I decided, it was me against the world.

I had a lot of freedom at that age. My parents considered me an adult, so I had no curfew. The only rule was, I had to call around three o’clock AM to let my mother know I would not be home and give an estimated ETA. However, I was often ridiculed for the use of this rule. Blamed for not ever being home. I was an outcast there, I felt secluded, rejected. Why would I want to stay in a place I felt like a Leper? Everything I did was wrong, and everything I didn’t do, was wrong. And still is.

One particular night, I called at the requisite time to let my mother know I was not going to be home until morning. She was upset, “You act like you’re not even part of this family!” she yelled. “I act like it? How about you and your husband and your son? You exclude me from everything, yet its my fault!” I fired back. That was the year they decided to go on a family vacation. The three of them. At that point, in my eighteen years on this earth, I had yet to have a family vacation.

“No parties, you can have two or three friends over, but that is it” my mother barked as she loaded the car with their luggage. They were taking my half-brother (he is the product of my mother and step father, the REAL nuclear family) to Wisconsin Dells. Their little FAMILY vacation. I dreaded being forced to watch their family's vacation video when they returned. The one with everyone they considered part of the family.

I had a couple special friends. The only two people who’ve stuck by me for many years, came and stayed with me while they were gone. Yes, we had fun. But mostly, they didn’t want me to feel alone. They cared that I knew I was loved. One person was Elaine, the best friend I’ve ever had and ever will. We’ve been close since the sixth grade, and still are to this day, thirty-five years later. She gives the best advice and is extremely understanding and forgiving. The other, Trevor, was the man I would eventually marry. He’s always been the other best friend who has always listened and been there for a shoulder to cry on.

Elaine, Trevor, and I had a wonderful weekend. We laughed, watched movies, played cards and board games. My favorite was our late night talks. They always made me laugh, kept me from thinking about all my sadness. I’ve always cherished my time with them.

Everyone except Elaine and Trevor had, or do, end up leaving me. Every friend, every boyfriend. They all love me and think highly of me at first. For some reason, as time goes on, I become a Platypus to them. I go from a butterfly, to something weird and different. Hideous and unsightly. I never know why they end up rejecting me, and never will. They never talk to me, give me the chance to make whatever I may have done wrong, right. Or if I have a behavioral or character flaw, I’ll never know I need to change it. I always try to be a good person and treat people right. If I am somehow hurting or offending people, I want to change it, make it right. No one gives me a chance, they just leave me. I become alone in the dark, cold abyss of loneliness and rejection. The place where outcasts go.

As expected, I was forced to watch their annoying little video. I watched my half-brother walk drunkenly through The Wonder Spot as it is on a slant. I had to hold back tears for what felt like an eternity, as I wished I could have seen The Wonder Spot. In all their excitement, they talked over each other. Eager to tell me of all the wonderful and fun things they did at The Dells. A severe bought of nausea came over me. That, was my escape. I told them I didn’t feel well, and retreated to the safety of my room. Where I was choosing to be alone, rather than intentionally being left out.

I no longer speak to my family. The immense amount of stress I have been through, has broken my body down so badly that I am now extremely ill. I am doing all I can to reduce as much stress as possible. And that means to let go of my toxic family. I feel better now that I no longer have contact with them. It has allowed me to move on, to heal. I have my husband, wonderful children, and best friend Elaine. With them, I fit in. And that is the only place I need to.