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Death Beholds Her

Updated on December 20, 2015

I don't remember a time when I didn't want to die. I am not depressed, I am just not meant to be part of the living. I am Catholic so suicide is not allowed but praying to die was never discussed.

I was six the first time I realized I was invisible to my family. My younger brother was born, my grandfather died and my father left within 6 weeks time. Suddenly I was a child, but an adult, relied upon to care for a baby brother, a sad mother, and an angry older brother. No one asked me if I was ok, they just assumed I did not understand.

I didn't cry. I never made my family feel guilty. I always did well in school, never asked for anything and soon they stopped caring. I was a teenager now, with step parents and a new baby brother. My step father did not interact with us and my mother worked second shift. My life was school, homeowrk, make dinner, make sure my brothers had done their homework, get housework done and get everyone to bed. I wasn't really a part of the family, I was the help.

My brothers always needed something, basketball shoes, soccer cleats, new sneakers, clothes... No one ever thought of me. I was a junior in high school working part time to pay for a car. I maintained straight A's. I went to school with the same jeans for four years and my younger brother's hand me down sneakers. I couldn't afford to buy things after a car payment, insurance and gas. No one thought to tend to me. I was teased and made fun of, had no friends. My mother didn't ask anything or engage me.

I graduated and maintained my invisibility. I never went to a prom, my brothers needed basketball gear. I couldn't date because no one would be home to take care of my brothers. I didn't have a pretty dress for graduation, I wore shorts. I saw my father at my graduation but he left before I could get through the crowd.

I am thirty seven years old now. I have my own child. I still pray to die, to not wake up every morning. I love my child but even can look through me. She is like my mother. She loves me but she loves my mother more as well. I have nothing, I am poor, don't own a house. I rent a very small 2 bedroom apartment, cracked walls and ceilings, dirt basement, nothing of my own. I work a lot but don't make much. I would actually be more beneficial to my daughter if I did die. She is my beneficiary.

I am not sad. I am not angry or depressed. Nor am I happy. I never have been. But I don't think I was ever meant to be happy either. I feel like I was never meant to exist, like I should have died but didn't, like my soul has been taken from me.

Tonight I will fall asleep like I always do, praying to finally die, to finally have peace. Perhaps tonight, maybe soon...

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