Becoming Invisible

“It does not take much to make us realize what fools we are, but the little it takes is long in coming.” ― Flannery O’Connor

When you’re on the older side of life, when you have illnesses/disease (and mine are trite when compared to what others my age suffer from) you tend to become invisible.

It’s not some purposeful trick, not some voodoo magic, not some shitty thing you just read about on the world wide waste – it’s a form of self-preservation.

You find yourself regularly, if not quite often each day, backtracking over your life.

You cringe of the things you’ve said, you audibly lament over horrendeous decisions you’ve made. You are deeply aware of how foolish you have been, and that it has taken a lifetime to come to grips with your foolishness – a foolishness that has hurt others, something you never intended to do.

You realize the time to exit the circus may be still far off, but also keenly are aware that it could be tomorrow.

You still, in an odd way, look upon the opposite sex, or same sex, in the same way you did when you were 40 years younger, and you can’t fathom why. The same attractions are there, the same proclivities haunt you, and you wonder why.  The same scent from years before, still attracts you now.  The same tilt of the head, the same wry smile, the same gentle hand, keeps you a bit spellbound.

The f**kery from jackals, from war-mongers, from psychopath’s – the
“leaders” of us all – you understand all too well – is utter bullshit…and you solemnly understand at the same time that most others don’t give a shyte.  They are still wrapped in the insanity of believing, too young to understand the lifetime of experiences you’ve had, or too apathetic to give a shyte.

You attempt to suffer quietly, to become invisible, so as to not to be too much of burden to your loved ones, but it becomes increasingly difficult to do the the everyday…the simple tasks that you did without thinking, just a few years back, that now you need help with – it is depressing.

You can’t scream to your world how much you hurt each day. The world really doesn’t want to hear it…and you don’t want to hear yourself saying it.  So, you try to become invisible.

The body is still there to be seen, the smile is there, albeit, a bit more wrinkled and undone. The grey hairs are there as a sort of testament that you’ve endured it all.

But with the grey hairs comes the quiet acceptance that you at last understand the foolishness of what was presented to you as a way of life…believing in all the rot the corporate shysters and media whores present. Their’s is utter shittery, utter f**kery, utter lies upon lies upon lies.

And so…you become invisible – but not on purpose.

You may attempt to write, might attempt to share of what you still have left by volunteering for that from your heart, you hope, might move the heart of those you’re helping.

You sometimes wonder why – why keep giving, why keep reaching out to others, why keep loving a mostly loveless world.

Yet sometimes, on a warm Summer night, as you take a step outside and breathe in the smoky scent of a humid Summer night – you have an elderly dawn of thought, and understand in your heart and soul, that what you give, sometimes in an invisible sort of way, is all that keeps hope alive, keeps love alive…both for you, the invisible, and those invisible souls you help in invisible ways, that is, in the end…pure love.

“I write to discover what I know.” ― Flannery O’Connor

***

Tonight’s musical offering:

Sir Colin Davis – Edward Elgar – Enigma Variations – Variation IX (Adagio) “Nimrod”

Photo credit: http://www.unsplash.com/@amitjain0106

11 comments

  1. Beautiful, and so true, your candor is so appreciated. Sometimes I go weeks without going to town, meaning I see no other living person. Then, when I do go, it’s like culture shock. I have a hard time then not tearing up at what I see. On the one hand, the young folks, just starting out in their businesses are so kind to me, so polite, and I think, how sweet is that? They call me m’am and smile at even my lamest comments or questions, meaning no doubt to be respectful. It’s so bittersweet, because I return their smiles and kindness all the while feeling so sorry for them. They have so much hope and expectation, just as I did.

    Only now, the deck is stacked so much higher against them. Young folks in their 20s who should have a lifetime of adventures ahead of them but I know won’t get far, they are mostly obese and don’t understand, thanks to such f**kery as the ‘fat acceptance’ movement, that they will spend half their lives at the complete mercy of a system that cares more about ‘pursuing happiness’ (aka making $$) than health and well-being. And these poor kids don’t see it yet, and probably won’t, until it’s too late. Each generation pops more pills and spends more time in hospital than the previous one, while everyone around them normalizes this. I haven’t been to town in years without crying or fervently holding back the tears and smiling back and repeating the pleasantries that won’t help them one bit to tackle the sad reality that lies before them.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. Actually, I read this about 3 in the morning, while struggling with this train wreck body.

    As I read your posting this morning, it was as if I were reading what I have been trying to make sense of in my mind and heart for a long time now. “Invisible”: yes. I have become invisible. And some of my invisibility is by my own design, while other portions of it are not by my design or will at all. I look in the mirror, and I don’t recognize the face staring back at me. I turn away, and I am not in my seventieth year, I am in my thirty-fifth or fortieth year. My mind, although slowing down, is still functioning, but my body is not in agreement. In my invisibility, I have been desperately seeking to make sense of it all, and not having much success.

    You wrote:

    “You find yourself regularly, if not quite often each day, backtracking over your life.

    You cringe of the things you’ve said, you audibly lament over horrendeous decisions you’ve made. You are deeply aware of how foolish you have been, and that it has taken a lifetime to come to grips with your foolishness – a foolishness that has hurt others, something you never intended to do.

    You realize the time to exit the circus may be still far off, but also keenly are aware that it could be tomorrow…”

    I’ve heard people speak of their near death experiences, and they always seem to speak of their lives flashing before their eyes, at that very moment. It has been my experience, over the last few years, that my life has been flashing before my eyes, but in a very slow manner. I keep remembering instances that I had forgotten about, and then I struggle to place them in the proper timeline. And it seems that these playbacks, or whatever one would call them, are a mixed bag of happy, sad, regret filled or frightening memories: some I embrace, some I hate, some make me cry, some make me laugh out loud, some I cringe at, while others leave me completely cold.

    Getting old has been a very odd and difficult part of this seven decade long sojourn. And at least for now, it continues…

    Thank you for putting into words what I have not been able to! Sorry for going on so long. Senility, you know!;-)

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Brilliant, brilliant stuff, there. As you said so well, the mind, although slowing down, is still functioning, but the body is not in agreement. Spot on! And how so true…getting old is so very odd. Thank you so much for the thoughtful comment. Very much appreciated. we continue on, and sometimes just don’t know how, but we continue on. Cheers!

      Liked by 4 people

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