Do you see me?

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See me.

Do you…see me? After all, I am your own flesh, blood and first born.  

Things used to be different.  I used to feel appreciated and loved by you.  Now  I feel like nothing, but an afterthought.  

You come through those doors and I look up to greet you, but you never look happy to see me.  So what do I do?

I chase after you into the kitchen and sit at the table as I watch you unpack your belongings and try to make conversation..even small talk.  

Our words die and we part ways until a common entity calls us together once again.  

I often spend time in solidarity.  I am sure you contemplate as to why.

Every time they awaken you from your daze, you answer.  You are alert and interested to them when they request your attention even if they just wish to tell you about their day, upcoming events, or accomplishments or to complain about a rough situation.  

Why am I different? Is it because I am disabled? Am I such a strain that even the mere thought of my voice produces a cringe upon your face?  

Maybe it is because I am the academic failure.  Surely you would rather hear about the success of an engineer rather than a failed musician.

I know.  It wasn’t my fault and that’s what you’ll say.  

I know I have limitations……

but that is all you see.  You are incapable of noticing the dreams, talents and passion I am capable of.

Listen to my words and my feelings.  You once requested I speak to you, truth.  Now I am invisible.  nothing…but a being who takes up space in your home.

See me. See me. SEE ME.

Be immersed in a colorful, contrasting part of your own life.  Me.  

 I am different, yes. Though I am capable of great things.  

See me.  See me. SEE ME.

~Siren Cay

SirenCay: The Invisible Child

Invisible. Routinely, that is what I feel like in this world. With only one friend and a family who never notices me, invisible seems like a proper fit. Don’t you think? You are probably wondering why I feel this way and how it all started. Well let me tell you, it has been going on for quite some time and I can bet there are kids, maybe even teens and adults like me who feel the same. I call myself “The invisible child”.

 

29999dcd66b4814007f673de76e7c3fb           Living with two successful younger siblings is no picnic especially when you’re the one with the disability. This is mostly when I ask myself “Do they think I’m broken? Are they ashamed of me? Or “Am I not worth being proud of when I do something I couldn’t do before?” These questions often plague my mind in my family because unless I do something wrong, bad, or don’t do something I was asked to do then I am not worth time in my parents eyes or so it looks that way to me.

“Hey, I know that feeling. Do you have any advice on how to deal with it?” For those who know exactly what I’m talking about, I’m sorry. The truth is I am still stuck myself.   Why is it okay for parents to deny that they are treating you a certain way? Why is it okay for parents or people in general to make you feel like your thoughts and feelings do not matter because you are different?

~SirenCay

Pc: Invisible child by Tove Jansson