basic theory of invisibility

i'm invisible. or rather i have the power of invisibility- the power to make people completely forget i exist in general, or at least forget that i can hear, have needs, or possess basic human feelings.  

one or two things can be overlooked. after the evidence starts to pile up it becomes harder to ignore. when people insult you RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, but not directly at you, you can no longer pretend it's not an issue.

a mother not noticing that you need glasses until a teacher intervenes.
not being taught to shave your legs until your brother is so embarrassed he begs for someone to teach you.
not getting your first bra until (again) a teacher brings it to parental attention. (keeping in mind that 3rd-6th grade were all male teacher. bless them for the awkward they had to endure).

those things can be dismissed as markers of a crappy childhood. 

being intentionally passed over for promotions.
batting 0.000 on ALL dating sites.
not having plans for the 152nd friday in a row.

you start to wonder but chalk it up to lack of a social network or not marketing yourself in the "right" way.

a co-worker sitting in your office, less than 2 feet away complaining about "...single moms with two kids that file their taxes and get more money back than they ever put in and are working the system and ruining it for everyone else."

or

"...i would never let someone that was gay into my house. can you imagine having them around my kids or my wife? not even the cable guy. i would just say i changed my mind and don't want the service any more."

those are a little harder to ignore. those are fucking impossible to ignore. those are directly indirect shots. either they're that wrapped up in their own hate and prejudices that they honestly have NO CLUE what they're saying applies to someone RIGHT NEXT TO THEM, or they don't care, and i am invisible to them in that moment.


so. how should i use my powers of invisibility??

because of, or hand in hand with invisibility comes, for me at least, the painful lack of social skills. what's the point of going out when you're invisible? when the only person in the bar that talks to you is the bartender, isn't it better to save money and drink a beer at home on your own couch? when you go to a packed concert hall and don't talk to a single person...when you have people lean over your or push you out of the way to talk to the person right next to you...when you sit alone in a restaurant and the waiter keeps passing by your table...when you run all your weekend errands and don't see one person you know.

being invisible is lonely. you crave social interaction. conversations that require words more than one syllable. topics that make you think and challenge and debate. you want more than the 2 minutes of coffee shop drive through fluff. you need more than the latest update on what new fad is happening in jr. high. you NEED to be seen and heard and to exist for a small space.

therein lies the theory of the comfort of strangers- you're more open to talking about ANYTHING with a complete stranger because IF you ever see them again, it will be so far removed they (probably) won't remember anything. also, it's your ONE chance to connect, so you want to fucking JAM PACK that small window with as much of locked up stuff that once the flood gates are open there's no going back. so you over share. all the things that socially normal people know not to let out. all the awkward and inappropriate topics, stories, happening. you become THAT person. the one people tolerate because maybe there's a good story in it. you become the weird person which, well, true, but just a small part of the tip of the iceberg. but you almost don't care, because at least for a moment, someone saw and heard you (but you do care, because no one WANTS to be the weird person).

there's also the awkward problem of never knowing when to make an exit. if you're smart enough you set a timer for a parking meter and actually care about not getting a ticket. some of us aren't that smart. or don't care. or are willing to take the ticket for just a few more minutes of being out of the house and around people. you get so excited for the rare outing, the glimmer of humanity that you become the last man standing. you stay until the bitter end. it's never great. it's always a giant bucket of awkward. but it's your small portal. your moment of non-invisibility. your blink of existence. and you desperately don't want it to end. so you're stuck in the worst catch 22- extend the awkward or extend the invisible?

there are perks to invisibility. every super power has to have the good with it somewhere. when you're invisible you get to see the real side of people much faster. they let their guard down because they forget you're there or don't care. you hear their real thoughts and opinions. you hear their real words, not the gloss they usually spin. when you do have a conversation- a REAL one, not an awkward overshare moment, it's much deeper and more real than most conversations. you broach topics that normally wouldn't come up. the comfort of strangers works both ways.

but you go through life as a shadow of existence. you're a passing flash of an image, easily forgotten and frequently overlooked. you want to be in the light, but it seems to be either a blinding spotlight or a half burnt out night light. neither is optimal. there must be a balance somewhere in between, but i'll be damned if i've found it in my 35 years.

the bonus to being mostly invisible is the ability to develop a harder shell. not impenetrable, but much stronger, much more efficient for letting things roll off of. i know comments aren't directly about me, because they don't see me. i know they're not purposefully leaving me out, they just forgot i was there. the number of fucks given about any particular thing drops well below the national average because what does it matter anyway? but as all swords do, this has a second edge. i've developed a much stronger sense of bitch. i've learned to push people away and reject them before they reject me. you can't fire me, i quit logic. i'd rather be the heartless bitch than the weird weakling. i know i can't ever ask for help because that proves that single mothers are failures. we are a drain on the system. we are screwing it up for everyone else. i'll do what i can myself and leave the rest before i dare ask for help.

i'll stay alone in the darkest corner before i reach out and burden others. no one wants that. no one deserves that. you didn't see anyone else willingly jumping into the swamp of sadness for a fucking spa day. no one wants the depressing, pessimistic crap. fuck. i don't even want it. so i'm sure as fuck not going to spread the anti-joy. debbie downer parties alone because not every party needs a pooper.

so i stay home. alone. depressed, defeated, invisible. its so fucking exhausting working up the effort to go out when you know it will be a bucket full of awkward. but i try. there's inappropriate conversations and awkward attempts at humanity. there's a few fun-house horror show interactions. vague attempts to step out. but mostly there's invisibility.

have you ever tried to find an invisible person in the dark?